


The Day Link Lost Everything

by RazleDazle



Series: The Day They Lost Everything [2]
Category: Rhett and Link
Genre: Alcohol, All tags from The Day Rhett Lost Everything Still Apply, Anal Sex, Blood, Blowjobs, Car Accidents, Depiction of Suicide Attempt, Divorce, Drunken Shenanigans, Fist Fights, Hospitals, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Random hookups, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-12-03 11:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RazleDazle/pseuds/RazleDazle
Summary: Link knows there was something more he should have done for Rhett, but what can you do when your friend is spiraling out of control? The day Link lost everything ended a friendship, a marriage and a business.  Now he is left with blood on his hands and emptiness in his heart. In order to protect the last semblance of sanity, he pushes Rhett and his entire life away. He is left with nothing and forced to rebuild.How did this happen?Can Link find his safety?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WolfSpirit00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfSpirit00/gifts), [afangirlsplaylist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afangirlsplaylist/gifts).



> With the urging of WolfSpirit00 and afangirlsplaylist, I decided to add more details illustrating what Link was going through during the events of The Day Rhett Lost Everything. Well, it turned into an entire thing and now instead of posting a few updated chapters, things have gone off the rails. So, I am leaving the old story for those that enjoyed it and adding this new updated version. 
> 
> I have kept many of the old chapters and discarded others. The ones that stayed received a face lift and different POV's and other details along the way. Elements of the story have changed, but the overall struggle Rhett goes through is the same. But the added Link details add something that is slightly different, adding a new flavor to their pain. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy the new details that I have added. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link is found wandering the streets. What happened to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated prologue to make sense with the rest of the story.

 

“Link you were found wandering the street. Link! Listen to me. You are in a hospital and they are going to keep you if you don’t talk. Link, talk to me. Please.” 

 

He felt a graze to his body. It felt far away, like a touch from another life. Maybe two dimensions coming into contact and bouncing off each other, floating off in opposites directions. That is what he felt at the moment, like he was trapped in a place that was distant and dark, part of him being torn away. He felt forgotten, where it was just him and his thoughts. Both of which he wanted no part of. 

 

The hands were no longer gentle, they dug into his shoulder blades and his face became damp. Still he didn’t care, couldn’t care. His body was heavy and lifeless. And all he saw was grey and death. Whomever it was trying to connect with him should just give it up, because he was unreachable. His life , his world and his body all were a deep dark void of nothing. Black and oozy muck flooded over all the other good parts of him, until he was completely covered. Good parts that he no longer recognized as real anymore. Was he ever Link? Was he ever good? His mind screamed ‘No’. His emotions felt flat and couldn’t rail against what his mind was saying, so he began to believe his demons. 

 

“Link. Link. Oh, Link. I won’t bring the children around to see this. They can’t see how far their father has fallen. Why, Link? Why are you doing this to us, to them, to yourself?”

 

Link heard her voice. He heard her words. But he couldn’t understand them. What was he doing? It was only what he deserved. Only what he had coming to him. His life was an empty vacuum and he had done it to himself. Every single piece of pain he received was dull and small compared to everything his mind told him he deserved. 

 

He felt the bed creek and the heaviness that was next to him disappear. The faint smell of the world, sweet and light, left his nostrils and wafted through the door that closed and locked. The heavy click of metal scraping against metal clattered around the room and settled heavily on Link’s ripped apart soul. 

 

Just as well. Link thought.  


	2. The Death of a Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link reaches his breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have added the new bit from Rhett's POV. The rest is basically Link's POV from the original story with some updated language and grammar checking.

> _ hey rhett, ur late. where r u? _
> 
>  
> 
> _ r u still going 2 b here 2 help set up? _
> 
>  
> 
> _ where the hell r u, man?  _
> 
>  
> 
> _ the live stream starts in 5 min. R u on ur way?   _
> 
>  
> 
> _ Startin w/o u, get here now! _
> 
>  
> 
> _ if u need to contact me, text Stevie. i’m live now.  _

\----------------------------

 

Rhett felt the buzzing in his pocket as he downed glass after glass of fiery brandy. He had come to this bar in this particular part of Burbank just for a quick drink to stave off nerves for the livestream or maybe to stave off the brightness of life. But one drink in and Rhett talked himself into another, which turned into six or seven shots. When had he gotten this bad? Who was he? The blonde man could barely  form coherent words, let alone thoughts as he yanked out his phone after the fiftieth vibration. The incessant movement in his pocket distracted him from the liquid that sloshed onto his hands making them sticky. He licked at the air, his face and hand moving in slow circles, trying to land on the mess on his palm. 

 

Mashing buttons and fumbling with his phone, he finally was able to turn it on. He held it far away and then close up and at odd angles, trying to read the words. He grunted at the damn thing, swearing at it loudly. The bartender or some random stranger, grabbed the phone from his hands. 

 

“Hey, S’my pho-...” 

 

“Dude, you asked me to read this for you.” Had he? When did he say that? The man read the messages out loud and Rhett barely understood what this person was saying.  _ Livestream? Stevie? Work?  _ It was after hours. His confused and drunken brain couldn’t understand why he had to be at work after hours. After long moments, he realized the phone was back in his hands and he stared at it. His eyes swam in his head as he took in the small device in his palm, finally the information clicking in his brain. 

 

_ Buddy System Stream!  _

 

He threw the entirety of his wallet on the bar top and swayed on his feet and attempted to sprint, but the movement made him dizzy. As he tripped out of the bar, the setting sun made him nauseous and he vomited on himself and the pavement. Barely letting the fluids bursting from his mouth stop him, he kept stumbling towards Mythical Entertainment. 

 

After a long walk and may falls, he turned up the street to the building he and Link shared. Wiping his face with his sticky hands, he stared and wobbled at the number pad. The buttons seemed to lift off the door lock and multiply in his vision. What was the blasted code again? He pressed three buttons, but then forgot he had started and began again. It felt like he was out there a while, until a new crew member, one Rhett couldn’t remember sober, let alone after a few drinks let him into the building. He fell into desks, sending items flying across the room, objects shattering to the hard floor. 

 

“Whoopsy daisy...Sawry Jen’s picher frame.” In the back of his mind he heard the new crew member ask if he was okay, but he continued on to the office. It was time to work, but the door was closed. He slammed into it, figuring out too late that that was not the way to open a door, as the building trembled and a loud bang echoed in his ears. Stepping into the room, the sudden brightness and the crowd of people and equipment, made anger that wasn’t even there before rise in his throat. Just the existence of this room and all the breathing bodies in it made him irritable, but he continued inside speaking words and interacting with his friend. 

 

\---------------------------------------------------

 

Link had texted Rhett twenty different times with no response. They had scheduled a live stream for the Mythical Beasts that had bought a YouTube Red subscription and were going to watch Buddy System episode 4.  Link was excited because this episode featured a skating versus rollerblading gang brawl. Molly Shannon was in it and he had lots of fun filming these scenes with her.  He just knew the Mythical Beasts were going to flip out when they saw the “brawl” between he and Rhett.  

 

But Rhett was nowhere to be found and was not answering his texts.  Link couldn’t just cancel the live stream at such short notice and he didn’t want to.  He owed it to the fans in a way of thanking them for their loyalty.  The show would go on with or without Rhett. The mythical beasts would understand.  They had a basic understanding of Rhett’s situation and what has been going on in his life as of late.  They all had given their sympathy and sent their love through messages, mail and fan art.  He knew they were bound to get some haters, but that would be true with or without Rhett.  

 

“Ok, Stevie. We’re going to do this without Rhett.  If he shows up later, great. If not, we’ll figure it out. Just keep trying his phone. I’m ready.” Link stated with a smile. 

 

“Good Mythical Evening Livestream.  Rhett’s not here and Buddy System episode 4 is out. Let’s talk about that!”  Link winked into the camera.  “Hey, mythical beasts of all time zones, I’m glad you could come out for this live stream.  As you can see, it’s just me.  Rhett had an emergency and might be around later.  But we’ll have tons of fun in his absence and maybe we’ll let him in on some inside jokes if he’s good.”  Link waggled his eyebrows up and down and gave a sweet laugh.  “Now I haven’t done a show on my own since the Kast days.  So, am I supposed to ask a question and then answer it myself or maybe I can say all my lines while the episode is playing. Hmm.  Maybe just let you guys in on some inside secrets.  I guess I will figure it out.  But for now, let’s delve into episode 4 of Buddy System! This episode is jam packed and Rhett and I are so excited to share this with you. Ok, press your play button is 10, 9 ,8. . . “ 

 

Just then the door to their office slammed open shaking the whole room.  Link’s face lit up as he saw Rhett walk in and then it fell when he could smell Rhett before he saw his whole body stagger into the room.  

 

“Oh, loosks like-a I’ma jus in time.” Rhett hiccupped as he bumped into the camera almost sending it to the floor.  

 

“Rhett, this is live.  Maybe you should go to hair and makeup before you come in front of the camera.” Link was trying to give his drunk friend a hint that he should go somewhere and sober up and not unleash his drunken madness on thousands of beasts watching live.  

 

“Nonsense. I loosks and feel-a great.”  Rhett said as he plopped in front of the camera. “Um . . ok. Mythical Beasts. 7, 6, 5 . . .” Link counted down.  He knew better than to argue with a drunken Rhett, while thousands watched. It was only a twelve minute episode. They could get through it and then site technology issues and finish the stream at a later date. 

 

“Ya know what. I don’t like-a how yar lookin at me.” Rhett hollered, swaying back and forth on the bench that he shared with Link.  “A grown man can’t have a drink or two?  What’s yur prollem, man?” Rhett belched.  

 

“Stevie, cut the stream.” 

 

“No, Shtevie, don’t cut the shtream. If da’ damned myfical beashts and ya haf a problem wif me, you all can suck my dick. Fuck you and fuck them.” As the words tumbled out of his mouth, he grabbed himself and squeezed illustrating his point.  Shock froze everyone in the room.  Was this a ill humored joke, was Rhett going mad or was this a dream?  

 

“STEVIE, cut the dangum stream.” Link yelled.  Snapping back to reality, the crew disabled the stream and shut the camera off, but the damage had been done.  Rhett had just insulted thousands of fans. This video would be shared among the beasts and their carefully cultivated reputation would be ruined. They were bound to lose a huge chunk of their fan base.  It would be a huge blow to their business. 

 

“Guys, we need the room.” Link commanded. Everyone’s eyes were glued on Rhett and the mockery he just made of their livelihoods. Link looked at everyone and saw them not moving. “NOW! Get out, guys!” he bellowed. They scampered out of the room, worried and confused. 

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man? Are you serious right now? You just grabbed your nuts and told our audience to suck you off.  Do you know how many kids and families were watching this, that will never watch again? You’ve ruined us!”  Link screamed in Rhett’s face, anger swelling in his chest.  He had never yelled this loud or been this furious before at Rhett.  They had always had their creative differences and temper tantrums.  But never like this.  Link didn’t know how they were going to come back from this. He didn’t know if he really wanted to.  Rhett had simultaneously killed his own career and dragged Link down, drowning them both.  

 

Link stood, shoulders tense, fists shaking.  “Do you have anything to fucking say, Rhett?”  Just then, Rhett punched him.  This was not a playful punch of their youth. This was not even the slap from the episode where they shaved Rhett’s beard, that caused an hour long argument.  This was full force, whole body behind it punch.  There was hate and anger and pain behind this punch. This was years of pent up frustration and self control, when a punch was really warranted but never delivered. It rocked through Link’s jaw, sending his head flying to the side and his body smashing into the floor. Blood trickled out of his nose and his lip already showed signs of swelling.  

 

Shock was all over Link’s face as he stood up, massaging his chin and opening and closing his mouth. He ran his tongue over his teeth and concluded that they were still intact.  The shock was short lived, as that punch lit a fuse in Link. All of Link’s pent up hurt and fear boiled to the top, overflowing over the smaller man. In a running tackle, Link threw himself at Rhett, sending both men crashing through the small coffee table.   

 

Surprise got the better of Rhett, as Link straddled him and proceeded to punch Rhett three times before the crew pulled Link off of him.  “Let me go! Let me go!’ Link growled and thrashed at the hands that were on him.  

 

“Link, Link.” Stevie whispered and touched his face trying to make eye contact. “Link. Stop. You’re hurt.”  Tears welled up in Link’s eyes as he bled all over himself and Stevie’s hands. 

 

Link took a deep breath and the strength left his body.   “I’m fine, guys. Really, let me go.” Alex, Drew and Chase looked at each other and released him.  Link wiped under his nose catching snot and blood and wiped it on his pants leg, as he glowered at Rhett still on the floor.  

 

“You and me, we were blood brothers, man. We were family.  Now I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’re not the Rhett that I have known for over thirty years.   You are a shell of a human being.  I know you have gone through things, terrible things that would send any man crashing to his knees.  I love you, man, like a brother. I wish I could take that pain away, but I can’t let you bring me down with you. You have done some really fucked up things to me. Things that I can never forgive you for, but I stood by you.” Link gulped pushing the memory that threatened to choke him away. 

 

“I stuck by you,” Link repeated, “hoping we could get through this together. But you just took a shit all over what we spent our lives building. You ruined us and our reputation. I don’t understand why and I don’t understand how you could hurt me like this, but you did. You have hurt me over and over again. You’re destroying our dream, man. And I can’t do this anymore, Rhett. I want you out.  There is no team anymore, no us.  Get your stuff and get the hell out of my office. I will send you the money for half the business and the paperwork to sign.  You will sign it. Then, we are through.”  

 

Tears streamed down Link’s face as he said the final words. “Guys, can someone help him gather his fucking stuff and get him the fuck off Mythical Entertainment property.  If he struggles or looks at any of you sideways, call the damn cops.”  With that, Link stalked out of the room and headed toward the prop closet.  There, in the darkened room, he slid to the floor and quietly wept over what he had lost.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos give me life. Tell me what you liked, what you want to see next, yell at me about your feels. It keeps me going. <3


	3. Aftershocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link sorts through the remains of a friendship and breaks the Mythical Beasts' hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A completely new scene (3rd group of text) has been added and several details added to Link's parts, plus polished wording. 
> 
> Thank you for your comments, kudos and support.

Link’s shoulders sagged as his tears dried up, but his body didn’t get the message as he continued to shake and gasp. Memories of that night stood behind Link’s pupils, threatening his sanity. Images and sensations shrilled along Link’s skin, as Link threw the night away with both hands.  He was not going to think anymore about it or about Rhett. He just couldn’t bare the thoughts sliding to the forefront of his brain. Pain mixed with friendship, tears clouded the youthful car rides along country roads. Fear flooded over the warm hugs and betrayal melted into each smile. But no matter what Rhett had done to Link, the feeling that Link should have done more crept along his neck.

 

How had it gotten this far? Why had Link let Rhett get this bad?  Rhett was floating in this life, bouncing from object to object, and Link should have anchored him down. Should have done more, been stronger for the both of them.  Should have wrapped Rhett up in a blanket of love and warmth and absorbed all his pain unto himself.  

 

The truth was, there wasn’t much Link could have done. Rhett lost his world and Link was a sorry placeholder for it.  He couldn’t replicate or fix all that had been taken away from the blonde man. Link did the best he could to help, but Rhett wouldn’t be helped. The more Link pushed his friendship and love onto Rhett and covered up his failings, the worse Rhett became. And the most painful part was that Rhett was killing Link, dragging the brunette down with him. Link couldn’t stop it.  

 

The drinking was not new news. It wasn’t even new that he showed up to work drunk. It became the new norm to tape shows after Link knew he had being out drinking all morning or all night. Link tried to convince himself that Rhett just needed time. He was healing and soon this would be a forgotten bad memory in a sea of other memories. Link had been so wrong.  

 

What was new was that he became an uncontrolled, bumbling, moronic mess in front of the crew and fans. That was unforgivable. Threatening their business and their livelihood, the thing they had put their heart and souls into for years. Link couldn’t just let it go. That night… That night he had pushed away to the bottom of his being, piling on top of it all other bad memories and problems that seemed to follow Rhett, and Link by association. He hid away from it, not allowing himself to think about it or feel the pain of that open wound.  It was a terrible day full of terrible mistakes.

 

But the look on Rhett’s face as he told him that he wanted him gone from his life. That look will be forever etched on Link’s brain. The look of pure horror, like a man with nothing left.  _  I was all he had, until I left him.  _

 

Link curled tighter into himself, holding on. He felt like he was going to turn inside out and vomit all over the prop room floor.  He wasn’t sure he could do this. They had been inseparable all their lives. There wasn’t a memory Link had that wasn’t attached to this man. How was he supposed to untangle his thirty years from that of Rhett’s? How was he to navigate this world without his friend? Link didn’t know and was anxious. 

 

But he was even more afraid of the place Rhett was going and inevitably the place Link would follow. It had always been this way, and Link had happily walked this life a step or two behind Rhett. But this time. This time, Link had to detach himself from Rhett’s path. Where Rhett was going, Link could not follow. Rhett was bent on destruction and chaos, dragging the brunette down with him. But the fact of the matter was, Link would happily be dragged to the depths of hell with Rhett. Yet on his current trajectory, Link would be left alone. Rhett would continue on until he killed himself and Link would be left a complete mess. Left broken and used up and without Rhett anyway. It was better to cut his ties now, while Link still had a semblance of who and what he was in this world. He swallowed the decision down deep into his throat. The taste was bitter and no less easy even though he knew it was the his only option. None of this was easy or would be easy. Not anymore. 

 

As he looked around the prop room, trying to calm his trembling body, he took in all the things Rhett had touched.  His fingerprints were on everything that Link glimpsed. The zebra suit that turned one of their videos viral and showed up in an LMFAO video, purple shorts that showed up in Chicken Noodle Soup Bath and countless others, puppets that were made by a fan in the early days of GMM, their old Rhett and Link logo sign. 

 

Suddenly, Link saw red. This wasn’t Link’s decision. Rhett had made his choice. How many broken pieces of equipment had been smashed in fits of hysteria, episodes ruined because Rhett couldn’t form coherent sentences, feelings hurt and messes that Link had to clean up alone?  How many nights would Link wake in a cold sweat with nightmares of his friend? A night Rhett barely remembers, but one that Link will surely never forget. How many times could Link hear ‘I’m sorry’ before the words lost all their meaning? 

 

How far did he really think he could push Link, how much heartache could the shorter man bear before it would become too much? 

 

The brunette could have forgiven Rhett that night and this day, but the times Link had to forgive kept multiplying. The brunette couldn’t take one more of Rhett’s mistakes. He was physically incapable of putting one more thing on the pile of crap that the blonde kept throwing at him. 

 

Link lost his mind, as he howled like an animal, ripping things off shelves and sending things flying in all directions. 

 

“Mike! Alex! Jen! Get in here!” Link bellowed. 

 

“Yeah, boss,” Jen called meekly from the door a moment later, not entering the room.

 

“Get some people in here. I want all of Rhett’s stuff packed up and out of here by yesterday! Anything, everything that was even remotely his, gone!” 

 

Link stalked out of the room and out of the building.  He wandered the streets of Burbank aimlessly focusing on building a wall around his bleeding heart. He didn’t want to feel anymore, didn’t want to think anymore of Rhett.  Forcing himself to forget, he walked until his feet were sore and his body cried out. Still he continued on his determined path to erase every memory, even the happy ones. He trudged on until the sun went down and Link was shrouded in complete darkness.   

 

* * *

 

 

Rhett blinked several times, unbelieving what had just occurred. Still lying in the broken splintery mess of their once fully functional coffee table, Rhett was dumbfounded. In his drunken stupor he could still feel the warmth in his hand from where he hit Link. His face was tender and swollen from where Link hit him back.  He could still feel the blood on his knuckles. His blood or Link’s? Rhett wasn’t sure. The encounter was fresh in his mind, but still felt unreal, like it had happened in a dream.  How did he let it get so bad? When did he lose control? 

 

“Rhett, you need to get up.” Stevie leaned down and touched Rhett’s arm. “Rhett, Chase is going to help you up and walk you out. Can I trust you to be good?” Stevie shook his arm. “Rhett, can I trust you?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah.” This was it. If that is how Link wants it, then that’s fine. Rhett thought without bitterness or anger, just emptiness.  Rising to his feet, Rhett glanced around his office, Link’s office, said goodbye to a lifetime of moments. The end of something wonderful, the years he spent with Link, broken and buried.  That’s familiar, Rhett thought bitterly.  

  
  


_ I thought I lost everything. I was wrong. So wrong.  _ Rhett had lost everything that night on the cold road, but now he realized he still had something to lose. Well he  _ did  _ have something to lose until he threw his friendship away with both hands. His anchor to this world had been cut and now he was floating away unknowing where his body would end up.  

 

The ache in Rhett’s chest scarred over and left a hollow hole. Rhett’s body continued breathing while simultaneously his heart turned cold and died.  _ But the fucking thing kept beating. Why did it have to keep beating?  _ Rhett screamed internally.  

 

He shuffled out of the office and down the hall, head hanging in defeat.  Out through the doors of Mythical Entertainment, the sun was still shining, but all Rhett could see was darkness.  

 

* * *

 

 

> Wut the hell wuz that bout? #disappointed 
> 
> beg of the end of GMM #findanewshow
> 
> Must be a prank 
> 
> I cannot believe the language. GMM is really going downhill fast. 
> 
> was that a joke guyz? Cuz it wasnt funny. #crap
> 
> #unsubbed

  
  
  
Link read through several of the hateful and disappointed comments, trying to feel something, but nothing but emptiness came to his mind. Although the stream had been cut, the feed had been recorded by the fans and circulated through all the fandoms and social media sites. Link and the mythical team couldn’t have stopped the wildfire even if they had wanted to. Link should have cared. Link should have wanted to preserve his namesake and reputation. But the events of that night wore on his soul and he just couldn’t drum up enough gumption to think about it, let alone figure out ways to fix it. 

Not that any of it mattered, because he and Rhett had already had their falling out. There was no coming back from that. Even if the fans of GMM were forgiving, Link couldn’t continue the show alone. It wasn’t his. It was theirs. Just like everything else in Link’s life. It was a shared endeavor. Something that they had dreamed up together into the wee hours of the morning. Link could no more divide the proceedings of the show than he could cut his own heart in half. But it seemed like that is exactly what he had done. Anger and hurt had fueled this separation and Link wanted to go back. He wanted to take it all back, but nothing could be done. He couldn’t t ravel backwards or reverse time. There was no feasible way that he could go back to the friend that hurt him and tried to destroy him. He had to be stronger than that for himself. 

 

But as Link sat in front of the computer, he felt his strength drain out through his feet. Without Rhett, there was no sunlight and no courage. It was just Link and his wandering thoughts. Half formed ideas flitted about him, ones that were usually so focused and determined, now jumped from the laptop, to the comments, to the last video they recorded together, to the file where they kept their ideas, to the facebook page then to the window to the outside world. It seemed anywhere his eyes landed didn’t deserve his attention for long. 

 

That is until Link zeroed in on Rhett’s chair that stood devoid of life and unmoving. But Link could hear the squeaky wheels in his brain and the laughter that once echoed all around it. Laughter that Link bathed in, making him glow brighter everyday he was blessed to have his friend at his side. But now the chair sat on the opposite side of the room next to the dark laptop and computer screen. The picture of Rhett’s children and his wooden cup of pens were long lost relics of a life . Everything waited for the man to return and Link wished he could tell the items to cease their hope.  The items were meaningless without the large man to bring life and light to the space. Link sniffled and said a silent apology to Rhett’s belongings. 

 

He won’t be coming back. The idea bounced around the room, hitting the shadows and disappearing. The words were gone, but the loneliness remained. It was an unbearable suffocation that furthered the thought that Link was really truly on his own. And he was lost. 

 

There was no way he would be able to continue on like this. He thought he could, but the circumstances weighed heavily on his body, making him sluggish and tired. He didn’t want this life anymore. With a deep breath, he turned back to his laptop and opening a google doc, he sat in contemplation. This was difficult, much more difficult than he had originally thought it would be. There were so many people to take care of, numerous things to say and loose ends to tie. Link didn’t know where to start, but lists made him feel better. They focused him and made him feel like he could tackle the whole world as long as he did it one step at a time. 

 

_ Severance pay _

_ Talk to lawyer _

_ Props, memorabilia, clothes, ect _

_ Equipment _

_ Message to mythical beasts _

_ Plan B ??  _

 

He sat typing for a long time in an effort to come up with a plan for every item, every piece of furniture, every shared memory underneath this roof and between these walls. Tears bubbled in his eyes, his nose filled with pressure and his soft breath steamed his glasses. But his fingers did not stop their typing. He wanted to write every thought that was swirling in his head. Every item that they had acquired from their desk to the GMM mugs to the posters and paintings needed to be given away or sold or thrown away. 

 

Link could care less about the branding and the miscellaneous crap they had accumulated over the years. What really made him pause were the few items that he and Rhett had really loved together: a painting of Lionel Ritchie that they received in the beginning of this journey, a bust of Elvis that they had all the way back to the GMCL days that had travelled to the Mythical Show and now sat in one of their recording studios, the plastic table they used to sit at when they filmed their very first Kast, the mythical chalice that they had created together during the Backup Plan adventures, their copy of Looking for Ms. Locklear -The one with the special case-,  the mythical boulder that they had kept through several moves and remodels. These were the items that Link couldn’t bear to throw away and couldn’t bear to keep. The thought of those items collecting dust in a storage room or sitting among the other throw away items in the LA garbage dump made Link sad. 

 

His mind turned to the mythical boulder.  That item held a treasure trove of memories as it sat in the corner of their studio, reminding them of their humble beginnings. It started out with no more than a rock and a lego man, but was built with bits and pieces of the world. It grew larger and more formidable with gifts from fans, beautiful but cracked and useless. It was similar to how Link felt about their journey as a team- a beautiful gift, many ideas useless, some fine, but overall built up into a solid foundation, until the little cracks expanded, crumbling the happy life they had built. 

 

The successful business and friendship they had built was a shiny and real thing that they held in their hands but now it sat, dull and fake. Now, full of nothing but tears and memories drowned with anger, fear and what ifs and should have’s. 

 

Link furiously typed  everything in his mind and soul. Every failed idea. Every memory. Every tear. He didn’t want it anymore. He wanted it gone from his mind and eliminated from his life. They were useless and they hurt. 

 

He clicked at his keyboard long into the night and when he finally looked up from his screen, eyes bleary and red, he noticed that the sun had set and the office was darkening. Blinking his dry crusted eyes, he dragged himself out of his seat, back aching. He decided that he was in no shape to drive home. And to be honest, he didn’t want to face the wide consoling eyes of his family. So he texted Christy a message and trudged up the steps to the nap room. 

 

Maybe a few hours of sleep would refresh him enough to carry out the plans he had set in motion. Maybe he would wake up and feel the inspiration of God upon him and know exactly what to do. But most likely, he would just wake up to an empty and cold room that was devoid of love and happiness. And be forced to carry on his life with only half of himself. That wasn’t his plan, but who thinks that their best friend will stab them in the back in more ways than one and force their hand. Link closed his eyes trying to will the nightmares away. He couldn’t handle another night of fingers digging into his skin, monsters tearing off his clothes, an unseen force chasing him.  He grabbed Rhett’s pillow and shoved his face into it falling into a fitful and unpleasant sleep.

* * *

 

 

“As always, stay your mythical best.” Link uttered his final line and leaned back in the red booth where the Mythical Crew and he and Rhett took their meals. The camera shut off and the crew wordlessly gathered their things and walked out the front doors. 

 

Link felt the smooth table under his fingertips.  Staring at his hands, he wiped invisible crumbs off the table, taking in the feel of the room.  He was proud of the success of their business and proud that he was able to express his thoughts to the mythical beasts and be strong without Rhett by his side. Now with the camera off, he felt the strength and bravery leave his body as he put his head in his hands and allowed himself to truly feel all that had been taken from him.   

 

It had been two weeks since he had sat in his office making a plan for his future - a future that didn’t include Rhett. How strange and surreal it was to think of himself as a solo person. To brainstorm and plan without his counterpart. The more Link thought about it, the more depressing the idea became to him. Never in his life had he been forced to go at it alone. He had always had the big man by his side to share the burden with. Now the chaos of his mind pushed him down, low down to the ground. He was practically crawling from place to place. 

 

But Link had no way of caring. He had tossed his friend to the wind, along with his happiness and creativity. His goals and dreams and plans went with Rhett the day Link threw him out of the office. And now that he sat at the table, devoid of all that made Link, Link, he couldn’t muster up the motivation to start anew. His only thought was that if he sat at that table long enough, he would wake up from this nightmare. That Rhett would be whole and happy and at his side. That the events of the past few months would be a scary dream and life would continue on.

 

Seconds ticked by.  All that could be heard was the quiet sniffling sounds of Link’s tears in his own ear canal. Wiping his face with his palms, he took a deep breath. 

 

_ This is it. Enough. _

 

Closing the door on his heart and this chapter of his life, he grabbed his bag, took one last glance at the Mythical Entertainment sign framed by wood and left the building. 

 

Getting in his car, he drove away from the structure that had been the source of so much joy and success. Now it was shell, simply a structure made of wood and wires and plaster. It was nothing special anymore, because it didn’t have Rhett or their team. It didn’t hold their heart anymore. Link walked from the building and got into his car without a second glance. 

 

Peeling out of the parking lot, Link turned this way and that, getting lost in the streets of Burbank. He had every intention of going home. But his mind left and his body took over, turning the wheel at this corner, passing up that restaurant, stopping at all the red lights. 

 

Night was quickly descending as he steered himself to semi-dark parking lot with a neon sign that glowed and glittered in the dark night. It called to him. He sank out of his car on jelly filled legs and made his way over to the heavy door. Placing his hand on the door pull, he yanked the door open and allowed the fingers of smoke and dim lighting to guide him forward.  

 

* * *

 

 

Rhett stood in the dark, dusty motel room staring blankly at the faded pink wallpaper, unthinking and unfeeling.  His extremities felt cold and detached and his heart was longing.  Longing for the people whose names he refused to form his lips around because it was too painful.  But who never left him in peace, wouldn’t leave him in peace, because his conscience would not allow him to forget.  It would be too easy, too merciful, if he could just fall in a deep dark hole and stay there forever. Instead, his mind kept giving him flashes of their faces, horrifying glimpses of suffering and regret.  Even happy memories could not soothe him because they would turn sour and strange, taking on a bloody hue that he could not understand. 

 

Desperate to grasp onto something pleasant, something that reminded Rhett of simpler times, he turned on his phone and searched through YouTube trying to find a silly episode of GMM. Maybe if he saw himself carefree sitting next to the one person in the world that made life important, that his mind would be eased. Instead, he saw a new video posted, “Message to Mythical Beasts: An apology and a sad announcement.” He mashed the screen of his phone with his thumb, impatient as the screen popped up and took minutes to load.  

 

“Hello to all the Mythical Beasts! I feel like there is a discussion to be had. Let’s talk about that.” Link smiled at the camera and the familiar GMM intro music and video came on the screen. Music that Rhett could hum in his sleep. 

 

As the cockatriece took flight on the screen, Rhett’s tired mind ticked by.  Link wasn’t at the Mythical desk in the area where GMM was recorded, but sitting in the red, plushy booths that were between the kitchen and entrance.  The gray wall of car sketches and the corner of a framed picture of a sailboat on rocky waters behind him. Rhett couldn’t recall a time when they had recorded anything there.  

“Good mythical morning! As you can see Rhett is not here. I know you have been worried and angry, but he is alright.  It’s been awhile since the awful live stream encounter and I thought we all needed time to process and come to terms with the event.” Link’s voice was smooth as it caressed Rhett’s troubled brain.  Link punctuated his words with a head nod and a finger to his lips in contemplation.  

 

“First off, I want to thank all the mythical beasts, no matter how long you have called yourself one, for your support.” Continuing, Link fidgeted with his wedding ring, twirling it in his fingers and looking away for a moment. Link returned his gaze to the camera with a soft smile.  

 

“I also, want to extend my heartfelt apologies for the events surrounding the live stream.  No matter what is going on in our personal lives, we have made a commitment to you and we failed in that commitment.  I am confident that if Rhett were here, he would echo my sentiment.” 

 

Rhett could see Link hesitate and take a deep breath. He and Link had not spoken since that night weeks ago.  Rhett heard what Link said about them being through with their business, their friendship over, but even so the next lines Link delivered shocked him to his core.    

 

“It has been an honor and privilege to be a part of your daily routine. I am sorry to say that GMM has come to an end.  Rhett and I feel that it has reached its logical conclusion. If our show was half as important to you as it was to me and to Rhett, than I am one happy Beast.”

 

Link paused and folded his hands in front of him.    

 

“Mythical Beasts, I know that this will come as a shock and many of you will be very upset at this announcement. I feel for you, I really do, because I am going through many similar emotions.  Thank you for seeing our little show as important and making it the success it is today.  We will always be grateful to you, Mythical Beasts. As always, stay your mythical best!”

 

At that, a few tears slipped down Link’s cheeks as he waved to the camera and smiled.  Then some montage of GMM clips flashed on the screen, but Rhett didn’t see any of the favorite moments.  He gazed blankly at the phone as it sailed through the air and smashed into the wall, leaving a dent, phone in pieces on the floor.  

 

It really was over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos give me life. Tell me what you liked, what you want to see next, yell at me about your feels. It keeps me going. <3


	4. Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each man is broken and alone. While Rhett drinks to forget, Link hooks up with random strangers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first full part is in Link's POV and completely new to the story. The second part is a spruced up version from the previous story.

 

Link sat on the wobbly, hard stool, rocking back and forth. The sway calmed his nerves as he counted 1, 2, 1, 2 to each sway. Guzzling his cheap beer, he scanned his surroundings. He was in a rough part of town, but the beer cloaked the natural hesitance and anxiety he should be feeling. Now he just floated on air, gazing leisurely around the room. His eyes searched for something, someone...anyone that could help Link forget. 

 

The beer didn’t help him forget. It just made him feel heavy and slow and in that heaviness, his mind was weighed down by haze, but it still worked. It mulled over every interaction and conversation, taking stock of every wound that refused to heal.  He concentrated his effort on the gaping hole in his middle. The hole that started the night Rhett stole his sense of safety and calm and widened when Link attempted to save himself. But in that attempt, Link had flung himself off the bridge and broke all his bones on the sharp rocks below. Now he lay bleeding and in pain with every bit of him was dying. Dying without his best friend, dying at the thought of being in the same room as his best friend, dying at the many regrets that made his body sluggish and cold. 

 

The only thing that soothed that pain was what he was doing now. Searching out a fine specimen to take and defile, like his body had been defamed and hurt. He needed someone to caress his muscles and knead out the worries and quiet the voices that told him he was worthless. Unfit. Unloved. Unworthy of gentleness and care and love. 

 

His eyes scanned the sweaty, dancing bodies.They were the same as Link. Alone and sad. Reaching out for another person to help them forget. But it never lasted long. It never lasted long enough for Link. But it was enough. The minutes of peace it gave him were enough. They had to be. 

 

A deep chuckle came from his right and Link turned his body toward the sound. There a medium build, fiery red headed man smirking. Link’s eyes travelled along the lean man’s body, taking in his faded and ripped tight jeans and concert t-shirt. His thick hair was styled messily and jetted in different directions, some falling artfully along his forehead. Link licked his bottom lip at the idea of what that hair would feel like between his thighs, nuzzling along his pelvis.  

 

The man sauntered toward Link and without asking took the seat next to his and ordered two Auchentoshan Three Wood Whiskeys, with a water back and a twist. Link placed his palms on the thighs and swivelled toward the man. “I don’t drink whiskey.” 

 

“Well, I think I can forgive you that, since you’re so cute. I might be able to forgive you anything.” The man eyed Link up and down. A blush crept along his neck, but he stayed calm under the man’s scrutiny. The bartender came back with two tulip shaped glasses filled halfway with amber liquid and two small glasses of water with lemon. 

 

The man sipped his whiskey, but kept his eyes glued on every part of Link. Peeking out of the corner of his blue eyes, Link felt the weight of the glass in his hand and brought it closer to his lips. The smell stung him before the taste had a chance to catch up. The liquid was malty and smooth on his tongue, thickly coating his throat, as the burn travelled down to his stomach, inflaming his entire abdomen. The fire filled him with a sense of power and that power fueled a want low and deep inside him. 

 

Turning his body, he arched his back a little and opened his legs wide. His composure was confident, but underneath he thrummed hotly for this man. The redhead saw the change in body language and stepped in between Link’s legs, running his hands up Link’s thighs. The resulting shivers dipped low in his groin as Link’s fingers danced along the man’s belly. The further the stranger’s hands went up, the tighter Link’s body became.He was practically on top of Link’s pounding erection, thumbs slipping around the grooves around Link’s most sensitive area. A low rumble emitted from his throat and without thought, Link was tugging the man away from the bar. Hands found his ass and chest, as they fell over each other on their way to a more intimate area. 

 

They burst through the doorway, hinges screaming in protest as the door slammed hard, but Link barely heard it over the pounding of his own heart in his ears. 

 

Link felt the hard bathroom wall slam into his back. His alcohol fused brain tingled with excitement as Smith, Alden, whatever his name was fit his body against Link’s, pushing him firmly into the tile. Smith, Alden, whatever his name was ran his hands along Link’s sides and over his abdomen yanking his undershirt free. Light fingers tickled the hair around his belly button as a warm mouth covered his own. Link’s body was on fire, desire rolling over him in waves but he felt nothing in particular for this man. He couldn’t even tell the color of his eyes or if he had all his fingers or toes, but the need that pulled in his gut drove Link forward. 

 

Biting and tasting the warm mouth, Link detected hints of the malty whiskey, setting his lips on fire from the memory of that burning liquid.  Palms kneaded into the redhead’s ass, fingers digging in. The electric shocks started from his fingers and settled into his groin. His cock throbbed against the constrictive jeans as Link kissed the man fully, grinding on him each time the man licked into Link’s mouth. 

 

The man flipped Link around and grabbed his hands roughly. Link’s breath caught, as the man halted Link’s movement, but at the same time trailed soft kisses down the back of his neck. The combination of soft and wild burned a hole in Link, but the hands pushed into the wall above his head made the brunette feel like he was going to jump out of his skin.  Darkness moved in and his knees began to tremble. Ice spread through chest, freezing him in place. Before panic could take hold of him, Link ripped his hands away and in one fluid movement shoved the man into a stall. 

 

“Pants off and sit down.” Link commanded. Sparing no time, Link was on his knees, mouth full of the man’s leaking cock. Hand massaging his own situation through his precum dampened pants. Fingers snarled through Link’s hair and Link smacked them away, pulling off the cock with a wet plop.

 

“No, you don’t get to touch. Hands down.” 

 

The man threw his head back and growled as his gripped his own legs. Link wrapped his lips around the man’s cock and sucked greedily at the head. His mind went blank and all he could take in was the saltiness of the man’s skin, the pressure in his groin and the flighty feeling of being turned on. Nightmares, his destroyed life, all the millions of things he should be doing to heal and grow, the anxiety of a small life lived alone left his brain as he lowered himself further onto the man’s cock, pulling out precum and moans. 

 

The man’s body was becoming rigid and Link knew from his own experience that the man was close to spilling forth. Link took himself out of his pants and ran his palm over his stiffened dick feeling the familiar twinge in his thighs at the pleasure of his own hand. 

 

He hastened his movements, sucking in his cheeks upon hearing the man’s low rumble of a moan. Balls tightened against Link’s chin and everything went silent and still for a millisecond. Then warmth flooded his mouth and he was alternating sucking and swallowing to take in the last of the man’s seed. As the limpness slipped out of his mouth, Link’s head fell to the muscular thigh as his own pleasure spurt forth against the toilet bowl. 

 

“Mmmmm….” Link sighed. The heady feeling of pleasure made his body feel weightless. He was barely able to remember his own name and that was alright with Link. This was how Link found his escape. 

 

\----------------------------

 

The drink felt cool and solid in Rhett’s hand as he swirled his wrist and took a large gulp.  He set it down roughly on the shiny wooden bar top with a loud slam, melting ice bouncing with a clink. Wiping his mouth, he hazily scanned for the bartender. 

 

“Would you care for another round, sir?” 

 

Grunting in response, Rhett didn’t look at the bartender, but at his empty glass.  He was unsure of how many or even what he was consuming anymore.  But it didn’t matter. This was not a night to start counting, he mused as he plopped a piece of ice into his mouth, savoring the hint of alcohol clinging to the smooth surface.  

 

He was determined to drink until the self hatred in his mind became a slight buzz of annoyance, maybe even a gentle breeze of warmth and serenity if he was lucky.  More than likely, he would spend too much money (money he didn’t have), wake up in the dirt somewhere covered in vomit and blood (preferably his own), remembering nothing from the night.    

 

If he were being honest, or was capable of introspection at the moment, this was why he drank.  Sure it felt good to be free of inhibitions and to have a burst of short lived euphoria, but there was an underlying reason. The real reason he drank was to forget. That was how he liked it, forgetting. Allowing his psyche to forget just for a moment that the last four years had ever existed. Blotting out a lifetime with loved ones that he would never see again.  Expunging the shake of his hands and the white hot pain of remembering when he let everything slip through his fingers that caused his own demise.  

 

He hoped that by downing ten or twelve or fifty shots a night, it would kill enough brain cells and fry those years from existence, the years that were forever interwoven with firsts and laughter and faces he would never get back.  Happy memories that caused just as much suffering as horrible ones. 

 

Maybe if he could forget, he wouldn’t be so damned unhappy. Maybe he could move on with what lonely and insignificant life he had left. Maybe he could even be happy for ten minutes. Slamming his hand on the counter, he snorted at the thought. 

 

_ Happiness is gone. It left the night that I took everything that mattered from me. And everyday since that night, I have continued to throw away and decimate everything that made my life matter. I deserve whatever pain I have coming to me. _

 

He took another long pull of dark liquid that was sloshing around in his glass.  The burn travelled down his throat and into his gut, setting his insides on fire.  The discomfort felt good. It reminded him that he was still alive. It it weren’t for the constant pain in his chest, he would have thought he had died years ago. He should be dead.  Everything fell apart because of him.  Drinking more intoxicating liquid, the burning intensified and he felt he was half way on the road to death. He could feel himself floating along the burn, being carried away.  But all at once, it dissipated, leaving him cold and empty. Soulless and alone.  

 

Years ago, the thought of such unbearable loneliness would have made Rhett curl into a ball and sob. Sob until his insides cracked with the force and his tear ducts dried up. Now he was just too damn tired and too fucking drained to cry anymore.  Besides, crying was for people. People who had things to lose, people who had souls that were in pain, people who loved and were loved back.  Rhett wasn’t a person anymore.  He was just a thing. A thing that ate, drank and breathed; a worthless piece of flesh. He had nothing left to lose and no one loved him, not even himself. He couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with his thoughts. If he could disconnect from his body and leave it as a husk on the floor, he would.  But instead, he continued ordering and drinking his dark liquid, trying to numb himself into submission.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos give me life. Tell me what you liked, what you want to see next, yell at me about your feels. It keeps me going. <3


	5. Things Fall Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett and Jessie have a falling out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some updated wording from the previous story.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore!” Jessie screamed, spit flying onto Rhett’s face. Hair mussed and greasy, stains on her shirt, and ripped pajama pants, she looked wild and animal-like as she ran through the house throwing Rhett’s things at him.  

 

“This is all your fault. Your fault! Do you hear me? I want you out of this house. I can’t look at you anymore! I can’t look at you without seeing . . . without seeing . . .” She trailed off, eyes distant and red, soft sobs escaping her lips.

 

“Jessie…” Rhett whispered reaching out for her. He wanted to comfort her, hold her and drown in this together. He knew he had left her alone, had broken her trust and now he didn’t know what he could do.  There was no going back, no fixing what he had done to her and done to himself.

 

“No, Rhett. Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever fucking touch me again. You don’t get to touch me after what you have done to me. To our family!” 

 

“Jessie . . . Please. . . I’m hurting, too. . . “ 

 

“You’re hurting? You’re hurting! As you drink yourself silly. As we have to clean up your vomit and blood. You’re HURTING! You are gone every night, wallowing away in the gutter. Do you think about me? No, you just worry about you! And now you want my sympathy!” Jessie threw her hands in Rhett’s face, her eyes swollen and wild. “How dare you spout feelings to me when you have shown time and time again that you have none!”  She screamed, yanking on jeans and grabbing her purse.  

 

“Jessie. . . I . . . “ Rhett went to take a step forward, but thought better of it. She had made her decision. There was no going back. No matter how much Rhett wished and prayed, he could not change the hurt in his wife’s voice or the pang of loss in her heart. His hands fell to his sides and he lowered his head. 

 

“Don’t you dare put your shit on me.  I want you out of this house and out of my life. When I get back, you shouldn’t be here.” 

 

Her footfalls pounded away and Rhett could feel a piece of his heart break off and go after her. Another piece that shriveled and fell away. Rhett could feel the loss acutely behind his breastbone, a slight ache to fill in the gaping holes.  

 

Rhett could hear her slam the door and the car engine start up. Pressing his hands to his face, he didn’t have the energy to cry anymore. He gathered up his meager belongings - _ she can have everything else, it’s meaningless _ \- and dragged himself to the front porch. 

 

He felt hollowed out as he placed the key under the mat, feeling like something too large and too perfect for him had ended. It had been a long time coming. Ever since they said, “I do,” the days of their fragile relationship were numbered.  

 

There was only one person left in the world and his body reached out across the miles. Taking out his phone, he pressed his speed dial.  “Hey, Link, buddy. Can you come get me? Jessie. . . Jessie wants a divorce.”  He allowed a single tear to escape his eye and plop onto the cement, leaving a round wet stain.  

  
_ That’s it, that’s all I get. One tear. It’s what I deserve.  _  Link was there to pick him up ten minutes later. 


	6. Stinging Relief of Self Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link has run out of options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely new chapter. 
> 
> Rearranged to make more sense with the rest of the story. 
> 
> *trigger warning*

Link didn’t know how he had arrived at this place. But here he was. The last thing he remembered was stumbling out of another bathroom with his pants around his thighs and his belt unbuckled, cum dripping from his ass and his face a mess of snot and saliva. His hips ached and his jaw hurt. The pleasure of the encounter was lost in the haze of regret and self hate. It was a seething dark angry figure that threatened to burst through Link’s chest and devour him whole. He stumbled as if drunk, high off of whatever it was he had done in the bathroom with whomever it was Link had chosen to fuck in the stall. But instead of making him feel warm and flighty, helping him forget and giving him peace. It made everything come in full focus. 

 

As Link stumbled through the bar, knocking over chairs and bumping into people, he felt like a man on a mission. On his way out he grabbed a long stemmed beer bottle off the bar. He crashed through the bar door and into the open air, the slight chill made his skin prickle and his nose run, but it did not dull his senses. That night came in full force and Link was trying to tame his thoughts, but they wouldn’t be tamed. They wouldn’t stop haunting him. The warm mouth that left his skin cold, the wet sounds of ripping flesh, scars still red from the nails, tears and fire. It made his head spin, as his mind delivered the entire scene, flashing it like a movie in front of his eyes. Link felt each twinge and each spark just as he had that night, maybe even more so now that his subconscious was entering the party of self loathing. Link blamed himself. He blamed Rhett. He blamed Christy. He blamed everyone and everything in the world that had allowed him to live on this type of planet. 

 

He swayed and threw his arms in the air as he staggered to the side of the building and slumped down against the wall. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he let his mind paint a picture of what his life was like now. Drunk and depraved, lying in the ditch without love and comfort. He had failed. Everything in his life he had found precious and worthy, was smashed into pieces at his feet. And he had no one to blame but himself. He wished he could push the feeling off on others but as the blackness came over him, he knew it was just him. Whoever he was now, it was his fault for getting him to this place where he had nothing left. 

 

Mindlessly he raised his arm and cracked the bottle against the cement. He studied the sharp shards that were left over, choosing just the right one. It felt like the most important decision of his life. The last thing he might ever think about and he wanted to make it purposeful. He flicked at the smaller pieces, angry at them for being so useless. They got in the way and slowed down what needed to be done. Clearing the debris, he grasped onto a long, thin sharp piece, poking the end to his finger.  The cool sting of relief dotted blood on the tip of his pointer finger. This was the perfect piece. 

 

He laid his left arm out over his bent knees and contemplated his forearm. Studied how the blood flowed and gurgled beneath the surface of his too thin translucent skin. Speaking softly to himself, “It is easy.” he knew what had to be done. It was so easy to destroy a life. He had done it before so perfectly. Rhett, his wife, his career, his kids. All were the smashed broken pieces of the bottle that sat beside him. All were caked in mud barely glittering, and completely useless to Link now. This Link that couldn’t be bothered to try. This Link that couldn't be bothered to feel or to love or to touch. This Link whose world had stopped spinning and whose every breath in and out was fire and ash in his lungs. This Link was a worthless substitution for the Link that had once lived bright and happy in this world that he loved so much. How had he lost that Link? Where did that Link go? 

 

He glimpsed the way his tendons flexed under his skin as he twitched his fingers. That Link never existed, that Link was a fool. The words echoed and screamed in his mind and with that, he cut into himself. A long slice from his wrist to his forearm. The pain was numbing. The blood was slightly dizzying. It calmed his buzzing skin, but this feeling wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed to totally destroy this Link that had cropped up and banished the other. He jabbed in again, deeper hitting bone and scraping down it. The sensation vibrated through his body and he could feel it in his teeth. 

 

The feeling was getting better, leaving him with a lightness in his limbs. His body had begun to throw down the shackles of this life and he chased that feeling of freedom with each slice into himself. His wrist and forearm started to no longer resemble a body part, just a bloody skinned stump. But he couldn’t be bothered with it. He dug and twisted, sliced and tore into his muscles and flesh, until the world got blurry and dark. The intense pain and the slow relief made everything slip into place and it was as if everything had been righted before it all fell away. 


	7. A Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett shows up to Link's house covered in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have added a completely new bit about Link's POV. That can be found in the last section if you want to skip just to that. The other parts may have some slight updated language, but no other big changes have been done.

Somewhere between slight inebriation and I can barely stay seated in my chair, Rhett heard a high happy laugh.  He was in mid guzzle, looking out over the rim of his glass at nothing in particular.  Just staring through the incandescent glass bottles and fancy glasses that sat behind the bar. Again, he heard a high flutter of a laugh that caressed at his ear drum.  He whipped around in his seat, almost losing his balance, glowering, searching for the laugh’s source.  

 

Faces blended together and in his drunken confusion he couldn’t focus his eyes on any one object or person. Teetering, his feet took him to the center of the room.  Slowly, arms waving to keep his balance, he spun around listening intently.  He could hear more sweet laughter as the fingers of memory poked at his brain. 

 

_ I’m sorry, Mr. McLaughlin. There was nothing we could do. _

 

_ Sweet laughter mixed with cries of fear.  _

 

_ Stop, Rhett! _

 

_ Metal on metal crunching.  _

 

Rhett pushed his hands to his temples and focused on the one sound at the expense of all other sounds and the screaming in his brain.  _ That laughter. . .  _

 

* * *

 

 

A door was opening. Rhett couldn’t remember how he had gotten here. One minute he was stumbling out of the hospital and the next minute he was slumped on a front porch, head buried in his knees. Unknown to his body, his heart had guided the way.  It had taken him home, to the one person that completed him and made him feel safe.  The pillar of strength that kept Rhett standing through his entire life. 

 

As Rhett blindly sat on the stoop, a light hearted chuckle floated along his ear canal tickling the tiny hairs along the way. A laugh, a high melody of sweetness, as the screen door squeaked open.  It was a velvety sound that would normally bring a smile to his face even on his worst day.  The vocalization did nothing for him now, as he sat numb to the world. His focus was turned inward, playing and replaying scary and heart wrenching images of the things he had allowed to happen. All his failures had been recorded and put on repeat for his subconscious to enjoy. 

 

The tinkling of giggles ended with a sudden gasp. 

 

“Rhett? Rhett. What’s wrong? Are you ok?” Faintly, Rhett felt hands yanking him to his feet. It was a light graze on his skin, barely noticeable. He could feel himself being shaken. “Rhett. It’s Link. What is wrong with you?” 

 

He was whisked through hallways and doors and rooms. Each one whipped by his eyes, unfocused and unrecognizable.  Rhett unknowingly allowed himself to be led to a chair and was urged to sit.  Truth be told, Rhett could have been tugged to the edge of a cliff and would have continued walking for all he knew of what was going on or where he was.  

 

Blinking, he felt the hard oak underneath his fingers. Pressing and rubbing his palms into the rough wood, he could feel his palms being scraped. The small discomfort pushed some of the fuzziness away.   Looking up, he saw the hands of a clock ticking.  _ Tick tock.  _  Slow and steady.  But that was the only thing that was slow and steady. His heart was beating erratically in his chest, and his lungs gasped in small breaths. Intaking just enough oxygen to keep him alive, but not enough to keep his chest from burning. He felt disconnected as his body slumped under it’s own weight. His red, swollen eyes hurt every time his eyelids closed. He tried to focus on where he was, but the blur of tears couldn’t be blinked away. Wetness was trapped behind his eyes, obscuring his already failing vision.

 

“Rhett, you’re bleeding. What happened? Talk to me.” The voice felt far away, like someone yelling underwater.  The concern in the high lovely voice was a buzz in Rhett’s brain. His hands wanted to soothe and to insist that he was ok, but he couldn’t move or speak. A heavy weight sat on his tongue making it feel useless, his mouth parched.  Running the sandpapery appendage over his dry lips, his lips parted but no sound emerged.   

 

Rhett could feel stinging and a cool, wet liquid on his arms and face and then a gentle rubbing.  Over and over again to each laceration, each tiny scrape, he could feel the same combination of sensations, but through a thick haze, like he was outside of his body. Stinging, cool and rubbing.  

 

“You’re covered in blood. Where did this all come from? Rhett. Rhett!”  Rhett could feel a pressure on his shoulder, meant to connect to him. Comfort him. The heat from the other man’s fingers sent a radiating pressure that flowed through his limbs and settled in his chest, making him stop breathing.  

 

Suddenly, not knowing what changed, he could feel every sensation magnified. Each tiny cut burned like hot oil had been poured on him.  His head pounded and his brain threatened to burst and take out part of his skull.  Insides gurgled to spill out and be exposed to the world as his soul was sucked out of his body and thrown into fire.  

 

The tiny sounds of the house, a creak of foundation settling, the whoosh of air through pipes, the ceiling fan all banged and clanked around in his mind, picking up speed. Everything was too loud and too bright.  His senses couldn’t keep up with the rush of stimuli that normally Rhett would ignore and file to the back of his brain.  Now everything was right in front of him, on display, vying for his attention as he tried to push the unheard screams away from him. He pressed his palms to the side of his head and squeezed, trying to rid himself of the blare of sounds echoing in his skull.          

 

“S’not my blood.” He sputtered out, voice hollow and tinny. Rhett didn’t recognize himself.  Didn’t even realize that he had spoken. The words felt foreign to his mouth and the taste of his own voice was bitter like vinegar.    

 

Feeling arms wrap around him, he continued to stare straight ahead at the clock, through time and space, feeling his blood leave his body.   _ Tick tock. _ Maybe if he ignored the truth, ignored his friend’s breathy crying, ignored his own heartbeat, he could will himself back into that moment.  _ Tick tock. _ That moment of impact when everything fell apart.  _ Tick tock. _ He could change his course, fix his decisions, erase the awful things that were done.  _ Tick tock. _ He could do something different, sacrifice his own essence and maybe he wouldn’t be here hollowed out, unable to form coherent thoughts, blood on his hands that would never wash away.  _ Tick tock. _

 

“Not my blood.” He whispered again, dry, sticky lips chaffing against each other.  “Not my blood.” He repeated over and over again as tearless sobs tore through him, coating everything in a dull ache. His face contorting and ugly as tragedy took hold of him. A mantra, “Not my blood,” as his body began to tremble uncontrollably and rock back and forth.  “Not my blood.” As he fell apart in his friend’s arms. 

 

* * *

 

Link felt around the warm and soapy water for the last of the silverware he was washing. Reach and scrub and rinse. It was boring and mindless work, but it centered Link. The expected movements and the repeated actions gave him a sense of calm in the already quiet house. His wife and children had gone to the park and left him to tidy the house. Link had really needed the break. Things were getting hectic on set with Buddy System releasing in the near future and the excitement made Link nervous and jittery.  He and Rhett had worked on this project for months on end at the expense of all other endeavors. At the expense of their families, but they understood. Their wives had come to the realization long ago, that these men were creators through and through. They would not rest and could never be happy if they didn’t have their hands dug into the next big project.  So when Link would tiptoe into the bedroom and sneak into bed at all hours of the night, Christy would just shake her head and pull him close. Link would cuddle her until she fell back to sleep, with him tap tapping his fingers against the headboard, exhausted but wired. He would smell her hair and think of sweet cakes and the beach. 

 

A bang on his front door pulled him out of the hypnotic movement of dish washing. Wiping his hands on the towel, he bounced from the kitchen, towards the front door. He saw a familiar upswoop of hair and smiled. 

 

“Rhett. What are you doing here? You know you could just come in...” Link called from the hallway, laughing. 

 

As Link drew nearer, a cold chill went through his body. “Rhett?”

 

“Rhett? Rhett. What’s wrong? Are you ok?” 

 

Rhett was covered in a layer of grime and red. Blood smeared under his eye, along his cheekbone and on his hands. He couldn’t tell the color of his shirt anymore with how much it was stained.  _ Where did all this come from? _

 

“Rhett! It’s me. It’s Link. Wake up, man. What’s wrong with you?” Link leaned down and put a hand on his shoulder. The smell was nauseating and Link felt himself sway at the sight of his best friend. “Rhett!” 

 

But there was no response. It was Rhett, living and breathing in front of him, but the friend of thirty plus years wasn’t inside of his body. Link gazed into the green eyes and felt himself reach deep within the man, searching for his friend. But nothing reached back. The man didn’t even blink. 

 

Link tugged on the blonde, urging him to stand. “Get up, brother. Come with me.” After much effort, Link got the other half of their duo on his feet and stood behind him. He placed his hands on Rhett’s hips and pushed him through the door.

 

“That’s right, Rhett. Walk, man. Let’s get you to the kitchen.” Link held his breath to stop himself from vomiting and fainting. 

 

Link pushed and grunted to keep the big man moving. It seemed all Rhett’s body wanted to do was stop and sink down to the ground, but if that happened, Link would never be able to lift him back up. A sheen of sweat broke out across Link’s forehead and he felt perspiration in his armpits. Almost there. It felt like ages until they finally reached the kitchen. Link navigated Rhett around the kitchen island and pushed him toward the table and dropped Rhett into a seat. Lifting both of Rhett’s hands, he placed them on the table for balance. 

 

_ Hopefully he doesn’t fall while I get the first aid kit.  _

 

Link ran through the house in search of bandages, towels, hydrogen peroxide, his cellphone and clean clothes. He juggled all the items in his arms, trying not to drop anything in his mad dash back to the kitchen. 

 

When he returned, he was smacked in the face with an empty man at his kitchen table. He looked so much worse than when he was on the stoop. His tears streaked the blood and spread it around his face, dripping splatters of red onto his table. Blood and dirt and something else. Link didn’t want to think about it. 

 

Link dialed the phone. Ring, ring. Then it went to voicemail. 

 

“Hey ya’ll, this is Jessie McLaughlin. I’m not available, right now. But leave me a sweet message and I’ll get back to ya’. Have a blessed day.” 

 

“Jessie, it’s Link. Call me, as soon as you get this.”

 

Link dialed the house landline. Cradling it on his shoulder, he began to wet the towel and place it to the man’s arms, trying to be as gentle as possible. Rhett didn’t even seem to notice the stinging alcohol seep into his cuts.  

 

The ringing lasted forever until the answering machine picked up. “Hey, this is the McLaughlins. Rhett, Jessie, Locke and Shepherd.” Link could hear each individual say their own name. From deeply baritone in Rhett’s voice to sweet and southern in Jessie’s and lastly to young and carefree in Rhett’s boys. “We’re out doing something fabulous, but leave us a message!” 

 

“Hey McLaughlin’s. It’s me. Jessie, please call as soon as you get in.” 

 

Link placed the phone on the table and turned his attention to his friend. 

 

“Rhett, you’re bleeding. What happened? Talk to me.” Link whispered as he sat by his side and began to clean up the blood on the man’s face, having to go to the sink to rinse out the towel and return several times. 

 

“You’re covered in blood. Where did this all come from? Rhett. Rhett!” 

 

Link soon realized that the majority of the blood couldn’t be his friend’s. The damage to his body seemed minor. Several cuts and scrapes and one long shallow gash along his arm. Other than that and the seemingly mute retreat from reality, Rhett was alive and relatively unscathed. 

 

When Link had done the best he could, he pulled the shirt off his friend and replaced it with one of his oversized sweatshirts. Rhett didn’t seem to notice anything Link was doing.  _ Did he even know where he was? How did he even get here?  _

 

“Rhett? Rhett?” The brunette whispered and put his hand on the tall man’s shoulder. He began to rub circles along his shoulder and bicep. Hoping the soothing motion would bring his friend back from whatever place his brain had ran to.  

“S’n- ma- bl-.” 

 

Link thought he heard Rhett sputter something. His friend’s mouth moved up and down and his tongue darted around in his mouth. The only sound Link could hear was the breathing of the house and Rhett’s wet smacking sounds. 

 

“S’not my blood.”  _ Not his blood? _ Link had heard it clear as day.  _ Who’s blood was it?  _

 

“Who’s blood is it?” Link was afraid to ask. The walls closed in as pieces fit into place. One of three options… or several of three options. And Jessie wasn’t answering the phone. Link felt himself choke on his own saliva. 

 

Rhett’s body began to shake violently, as his hands wrapped around himself. 

 

“S’not my blood, s’not my blood, s’not my blood.”

 

“Oh, bo. No, no, no…” Link wrapped his body around his friend and held on tightly. “Rhett. . . Shhh….” Heavy tears ran along his cheeks and dripped heavily on Rhett’s shoulder. They began to rock back and forth, Rhett’s body vibrating under Link’s hands. 

 

Feeling useless, Link could only stand there and touch his shoulders and hug him. Rhett was trapped somewhere that Link couldn’t get to him. There wasn’t a key or any magic words to make this better. He wasn’t sure that Rhett could feel his arms or the depth of his sadness for what he was going through. Link let his strength pour over Rhett as he clung to his friend, desperately trying to soothe the big man. 

 

Rhett continued to move his jaw up and down, but the words no longer fell out. He had run himself dry and his body slumped under it’s own weight. 

 

“Rhett, you gotta get up man. We can’t sit here forever.” Link was concerned Rhett would lose all his strength and fall to the floor and hurt himself. 

 

Link put Rhett’s arm around his shoulder and with one heave got the man standing and dragged him to the guest room with more grunting and heavy breaths, depositing him on to the bed. Link threw a quilt over Rhett. 

 

“I’m here if you need me, buddy. Just rest.”

 

“No! No. Come back.” 

 

Link hesitated at the door. He wanted to make calls, check some hospitals, call Christy but his friend called out to him. Nodding his head he slipped his shoes off and crawled into bed with his friend. Link sat with his head resting against the headboard as he took his friend’s limp hand into his. And that is how Christy found them, both men clinging to each other in sleep. Link holding Rhett’s hand and Rhett’s head buried against Link’s hip. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos give me life. Tell me what you liked, what you want to see next, yell at me about your feels. It keeps me going. <3


	8. Coping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett and Link find ways of coping. It doesn't seem to be working.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you want to skip around: 
> 
> The first part is completely new Link POV. 
> 
> The rest is from the previous story, with added details. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 

Link threw the dark man onto the over sized bed, hearing the mattress springs groan in complaint. He was already out of his clothes and straddling the man’s face, shoving the tip of his cock between the plump lips. If someone had told the Link of four years ago that he would be in a hotel room with a complete stranger getting sucked off, he would have laughed in their face. But here he was, soft lips around his shaft and drool leaking from his companion’s mouth.  Link couldn’t say that he enjoyed what was happening. He wouldn’t say that what he was doing was a conscious decision. It was just every time he closed his eyes, it seemed he thought of Rhett. Thought of that night and his senses became overwhelmed. His body would shake and his soul would crumble in his insides.  The fear of that night was overpowering and Link needed to forget. Needed to forget everything he lost. His safety, his friendship and his entire happy little life.

 

Link had seen psychiatrists, had taken pills, had tried yoga and meditating and a whole host of other ways to deal with his issues. All seemed to help for a limited time, but there were moments, dark moments when Link couldn’t push away the nightmares. Couldn’t quell the ache and the jitters and the bone crushing emptiness. His skin would crawl and his insides would shake with the effort to continue breathing, to continue pumping blood to continue all the life giving processes of his body. It was in those times, that Link sought out the comfort of strangers. Strangers kept him warm and occupied his mind. Strangers made him forget that he was broken and alone and nothing.

 

“Fucking take my cock, whore.” Link grunted as he grabbed the man’s head and shoved his dick into the man’s throat choking him. The man grabbed on to Link’s thighs for dear life, struggling against the barrage of the brunette.  Link was not entirely cruel. He did allow the man a few puffs of air before he continued to make the man savor every inch of his cock in the most defiling of ways. The man stuck his tongue out and lapped at Link’s balls with every downward thrust to the man’s skull. Nails dug into the man’s temples as he pumped a steady pace, feeling the swirl of familiar pleasure spread across his belly. The warmth radiated outward, tingling his fingers and toes, as his balls tightened.  The man sucked in his cheeks and that was all Link needed to come hot and fast down the man’s throat, painting the insides with Link’s need to forget.

 

Link slipped out of the man’s mouth and wiped himself off on the man’s shirt. Throwing on his pants, he picked up his shoes and shirt and headed towards the door.

 

“Hey. Where are you going baby? Don’t you want to have some more fun?” The stranger purred, patting the bed. The growing situation was obvious in the man’s pants.

 

“No. I am good now.” Link opened the door and slipped out quickly, heading to the elevator away from the man.  

 

“Cock whoring tease. I hope you fucking die!” The man screamed, scrambling after Link.

 

“Already done.” Link mumbled ducking into the hallway and towards the elevator. He didn’t need to be reminded that he should die. That had happened years ago, was still happening each day that his body forced life upon him.

 

He stood in the elevator having taken what he needed and feeling a sense of calm. But as the elevator dinged it’s way up to the fourteenth floor and Link stepped through the doors, pressing the lobby button, the calm dissipated and left him in a cold sweat. Hands shook as he jabbed the button on the elevator and his foot tapped incessantly. Taking deep breaths he fought the wave of panic as it flooded his insides making his heart pound and blood rush adrenaline and fear through him. He could feel hot breath on his neck and pressure his groin. _No. no. Breathe Link._

 

The elevator doors opened, but Link did not leave the small room. The enclosed space felt safe and quiet. Nothing could get at him because he could see all angles and could anticipate the threats. He rode the waves of his panic and the elevator up and down a few more times, before the rolling blood calmed in his veins and he could catch his breath again.

 

* * *

 

 

Link found his way back to the few employees he had hired back in the bar downstairs. He had been gone for a long time and he hoped that they didn’t take notice.

 

When Link slunk back into his chair at the table, it seemed that they had barely noticed his absence.

 

“I wonder how those big wigs are gonna react to the show ideas.”

 

“I hope they don’t want to change the concept up too much. . . .”

 

“Who knows? Maybe this will lead to another big thing. Can you say Oprah Winfrey Show?”

 

At that the group laughed in a semi drunken haze.

 

“I bet those big wigs are going to love the new ideas you have, Link.” Link was startled that he was noticed. He gave a half hearted smile to his employee.

 

“Yeah, Link. We should celebrate!”

 

The table of people clinked their glasses together, laughing happily.  Their joy was contagious and Link threw his head back and laughed heartily.  

 

“One can only hope. If they love our ideas, half as much as you guys do, we’re golden.”  Link chuckled.

 

“Here’s to a successful meeting.”  

 

Link had been contacted by CBS New York.  They had seen he and Christy’s show, The LinKristy Hour, on YouTube and were intrigued. Link and Christy were known by their fifteen million subscribers as the family friendly presence on the internet.  Part of their show was based on video blogging that was on all sorts of topics that related to kids: health, safety, education, toys and entertainment.   The other part of their show was an off the cuff ten minute show centered on kids and their parents, performing challenges, taste tests, games and crafts where parents and kids could compete and spend time together.  The show was a slight spinoff of GMM, goofy and fun and wildly successful.

 

It was the show that had pulled Link from the depths of hell, from his lowest low. It was the thought of his creativity dying in a pit of fire that brought him back. The creative flow and constant business saw him through the healing of the jagged lacerations that he had cut into his own body. The promise of success and maybe a happy moment kept him from reopening those old wounds. Each day, if he was not out scouting his next hookup he was consciously making the decision to not bleed to death in a pool of his own dying essence. It was the next project, the next thing that needed to be done that kept his mind busy. Occupied enough to not think of Rhett and that night and all his past failures during the day, while at night he found comfort in strangers.  

 

Link hopped on a plane and had travelled to New York for a business meeting with CBS New York in the hopes that they would be wowed by the new TV series he wanted to try, Will It Kid?   The small idea had snowballed and now here he was in New York, with his team, about to pitch his big ideas to a TV network.

 

Laughing, he couldn’t believe his luck. Too bad, Christy couldn’t make it. She was back in California holding down the fort, taking care of the kids and keeping the show going in his absence.  The thought of her dedication to his dream and their children tugged at his heart and put a smile on his face.

 

When he had brought up the idea four years ago, after the crashing and burning of Good Mythical Morning, Christy was apprehensive.  After what had happened with the livestream debacle, Link desperately needed to rebrand and make a new name for himself.  After a decade of internetainment and making people laugh, he couldn’t fathom going back to a quiet job. But creating an entire new series, well, it was a daunting task to surge forward on his own. He had only ever been part of a duo and the thought of creating a new show alone was debilitating.  

 

Christy didn’t know if she could match Link’s enthusiasm and energy on camera and was unsure of her comedic and artistic presence.  But his wife loved him and couldn’t say “No,” to his pleas.  It wasn’t his fault that his dream had been destroyed.  

 

Being separated from Rhett was harder than he wanted to admit to himself.  It wasn’t just the lack of creative energy that pulled Link down. Though that was what Link blamed it on. Deep in his heart, it was the absence of Rhett, his lifelong friend that was impossible to move forward from.

  

 

Link thought a clean break would be easiest. Cleansing his professional life seemed like it would help cleanse his soul of his former best friend. Link hadn’t realized that it was not so simple. The walls of his house seemed to close in with all the pictures of his family and Rhett. Rhett was etched in every crack of his home. How the large man would sink into his one and only oversized chair so that he could be comfortable. His friend sitting at Link’s desk in his den as Link flitted about the room in nervous energy over some trivial thing.  He saw Rhett in the tree he helped plant in the backyard, the over abundance of food left uneaten in his fridge that the man would usually devour, every place that Link couldn’t reach. Everything reminded him of his friend.

 

Admittedly, he couldn’t look into his children's eyes as they ate breakfast either, because he saw their pain and disappointment at not being able to see their own best friends anymore.  His family and home were not safe for him. It was filled to the brim with broken relationships and betrayal, each thing Link looked at suffocated him. Every item came with it a thick fog that shouted of Rhett. The man had his hands on everything in Link’s life, nothing was without his calloused fingerprints. The smallest things in a room, the tiniest of memories, his entire fucking life reeked of Rhett’s scent and Link couldn’t run away. Because no matter how fast or far he ran, Rhett was there in his dreams and haunting his days. Reminding him of what he threw away with both hands so thoughtlessly, the shiny memories that were no longer his to cherish.

 

And if Link were being totally honest with himself, the demise of his own marriage started on that night. The night Link shoved deep down in his gut, the night Rhett had apologized for and then promptly forgotten in his drunken and pain induced haze. It was in that night that Link couldn’t take the touch of his best friend anymore. And by extension, he couldn’t be touched by anyone he loved. He couldn’t sit in bed and hold his wife while they watched TV.  In his wife’s face were a host of memories of the four of them in college. Of combined plans and family outings. Not only the pain of lost friendship, but in her hands held the story of touches that should never have happened. Each time Christy placed a gentle hand on Link, his body would shrill and his skin would crawl, sending his mind into a spiral that led to that night. So everytime Christy would go in for a hug or to hold Link’s hand, Link would duck away, escape his gentle wife, while his insides silently screamed of the horror.  

  
  


It started slow and quiet. Link would go out once a week. He just needed air, he claimed. But really he needed to escape from the place and people that he should love and be most comfortable with. Ever since Rhett and Link’s friendship disintegrated, there was almost no calm. So Link sought it out in the comfort of other people. People that had no connection to their now severed life. People he could touch and not feel the cold fingers of his former best friend clutch down on his body.  The grazing hands of other people made him forget his own pain and fear and that was alright with Link.

 

He had found his way to bars and into other people’s beds. Women, men, it didn’t matter to Link. His life was a lie. He had lost so much and was shit at coping without Rhett. But Rhett wouldn’t help him, because he had kicked Rhett out of his life. Link was a sorry excuse for a human being, let alone a friend. And it seemed every day, Link’s insides mourned the loss of their friendship. Secretly, even from himself, Link could have lived his life with the knowledge of what Rhett did to him. He could have for the sake of his love and bond with his best friend. But it seemed no matter what Link did, Rhett was bent on destruction, taking them both down. And in a final push for self preservation, Link had murdered thirty years of life. It had seemed so quick and painless. Link felt then that it was the right course of action. Now he wasn’t so sure. Nothing was black and white anymore, because his life was a sea of gray and fog.   

 

So, the once a week hookups, turned into twice a week, which turned into five days a week, which evolved to long stretches of time that Link was out of the house. Link didn’t even think anymore. He just acted. Grabbing dicks, pulling hair, fucking assholes. It didn’t matter where he stuck his cock. As long as he stuck it somewhere, it would quiet the nightmares and the shaky feeling in his legs. It would make him forget everything for just a second. And that is what Link craved, the ability to forget. Because if he had to sit in his memories, ones he wouldn’t allow himself to have and relive every conversation and touch without break, Link would completely lose what little of his mind he had left.

 

As the days turned to months, Christy watched Link’s heart die a little more each day. Link thought Christy didn’t see it, but Christy knew. Christy felt it the day Link came home after the horrible live stream and had seen it in the dullness of Link’s eyes when he walked through the door of their home. She had heard it in his voice when he could barely utter Rhett’s name as he bowed his head trying to explain through the thick heavy tears dripping from his chin.  Tasted the loss on her lips as she tried to kiss him and hold him when he slumped in her arms.  He was mourning the loss of half of himself, and she saw right through the pain and numbness. Even though Link didn’t want to admit it, she knew that the loss of his friend was traumatic.  

 

But it wasn’t that he lost his friend. Rhett was an integral part of Link and without him, he was floating alone. Rhett left and Link lost his whole world, his memories, his days, every single smile.  They had been inseparable for so long, that now that they were without the other, Link could feel his soul dying without its counterpart.  Christy knew that this was the beginning of the end. Rhett was number one in Link’s life, it was a constant compromise of the two different loves of Link’s life, his wife and his best friend.  It had always been that way and now with Rhett gone, Link’s life was an aimless struggle to catch up with some unknown force that was just out of his grasp.  Christy knew it and accepted it and let Link go.

 

The only days that Link found his way home were on the days that he and Christy had planned to shoot episodes for their show. Link would trudge through the door, half dead with exhaustion, his face mucked with dirt. Christy would lead him to the bathroom and let him compose himself and clean up while she set up the equipment in their den.

 

Link knew he didn’t deserve this woman. Her sweetness was beyond compare. Any other woman, any other person would have tossed him to the curb. Hell, he even tossed Rhett to the curb when things got difficult. He couldn’t believe that someone in this world still gave one ounce of thought to his well being. But she did and she cared for him.

 

Although they were married in name alone for the sake of their show, Link felt nothing for the woman that he had spent so many years loving.  His hardened heart not only fought against the love for his best friend, but also the love of anyone else that had opened itself up to.  The pain of losing Rhett was indescribable and Link protected himself against all other eventual pains. So although she was beautiful and would be his, if only he let her, they were partners in business and partners in raising their children, but nothing more.  Neither felt an ill will toward the other. It just was a fact of life that the day Link lost Rhett, his heart lost the ability to love. And it hurt more than he knew, but he wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on it.  His heart was shut down, closed for business.  His main focus was his internet show and on rare occasion, his children.  

 

It took years to build the fan base and earn the trust of the former Mythical Beasts, now known as the Nealsters.  After four years, Link and Christy had developed an easy give and take in front of the cameras.    Her connection to the fans and the fans’ children was easy and natural.  She brought a happy energy to the camera that Link found difficult to do since his separation from Rhett.  Surpassing him in many areas,  she flirted with the camera and built their show from the ground up and he was proud of her.  She was the heart of their show and their success made him feel lucky to have her in his life.  

 

The show was an even bigger success than GMM had been, but still, it was not the same as when he worked alongside Rhett. A deep part of Link’s brain that he refused to acknowledge, knew that his whole heart wasn’t it in.  Not like with GMM or Buddy System or Commercial Kings or any of the dozens of shows, sketches and songs they had created together.  The life Rhett and Link had built together and torn asunder together seemed more tangible and bright than the fragile partnership that he and Christy maintained.  

 

Even now, years later, there was a crying man hiding in the desolate reaches of his soul, grasping out and calling for Rhett. Link refused to acknowledge these twinges of need for his friend.  Each random thought of the blonde man or tear that threatened to escape renewed his determination as he built stronger walls around his heart, adding barbed wire and locks through the years.

 

His tongue flicked out to swipe against his bottom lip as he thought of the man he left up in the hotel room. He should have taken more time, let the numb flighty feeling of having one’s cock sucked last. But Link was impatient and needed release. He would have to find another suitable companion for later tonight. The flush on his skin was already returning and memories that he suppressed during the daylight hours, threatened to flood over the barriers he constructed. Taking a sip of his red wine, he scanned the room above his employee’s heads, taking in the scene and the crowd.

 

The man he had taken was Link’s age, but looked much older and worn out. Maybe a young, vibrant one would do. Link mused to himself.

 

A sudden crash surprised him out of his dark thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Clank. Crash. Skitter.

 

Link heard the sound of something smashing to the floor and pieces scattering from his office.  Jumping to his feet, he ran through the offices and kitchen, scanning nooks and crannies for the source of the commotion.  Turning left, he opened the door to the studio set to see all the lights turned on. Shielding his eyes, all he could see were dark blotches in his sight as he stepped on something and felt it crunch under his foot.  Moving his foot he saw pieces of glass, his gaze slowly travelled up and over the destruction that he had heard only moments ago.  Camera equipment and their huge TV screen that they used to watch each other and fix their hair during recordings had been smashed. Huge chunks of metal and wire, glass and debris scattered everywhere on the floor. Among the damage, Link spied Rhett kneeling, head down, fists clenched and his bloody body trembling.  Link took a step forward as Rhett dropped to the floor in a heap, unconscious.   

 

“Oh, Rhett . . .’ Link whispered sadly to himself, surveying the room that had once been filled with laughter and light, now filled with blood and chaos and the sounds of Rhett’s unsteady breathing.  Link knelt down and put a hand on the blonde man’s damp, sweaty hair.  “Why man? Why do you torture yourself?”  

 

With much grunting and swearing, Link dragged Rhett to their office and maneuvered his body on to the couch.  Grabbing a throw and a pillow, he tried to make Rhett as comfortable as possible, as comfortable as Rhett’s large frame on a too small couch would allow. From experience, he knew that he could not get Rhett to the car like this and had a feeling the man would not be capable to being up and about anytime soon.  So he made the necessary phone calls. The first call was to Christy, the easier of the two calls.

 

“Hey babe.”

 

“Hi, Link. You on your way home?”

 

“No, honey. It’s Rhett.” That’s all he needed to say. That’s all he ever needed to say. Christy knew Link’s soul and knew that if Rhett needed him, Link was there.

 

“Ok. See you tomorrow. I love you.”

 

“Me too.” Link said as he hung up.  

 

He dialed again and as the phone rang, Link took a deep breath and gulped down the lump in his throat. He hated this part.

 

“Hey, Jessie. It’s Link . . . “

 

“He’s too drunk to come home again, isn’t he?”

 

“No, no. We are just staying late, thought I’d call you, since he is in recording a song.” Link lied. He was never a good liar. His voice rose up at the end of each sentence as he lied, as if he were asking a question.

 

“Link. Don’t lie to me.”  Jessie said blankly, a punctuation.  “Shit, I hate this,” she barely whispered tears in her voice, ending the conversation with the click of the phone and then an empty silent space.

 

“I hate this, too.” Link said into the phone, talking to no one but the Merle Haggard albums on the wall.  

 

He glanced over at Rhett, passed out, eyes fluttering madly under eyelids. Leaning down, he placed a hand to the man’s forehead, pressing his fingers against his sweaty brow, absorbing the man’s sadness.  “I hate this, too,” he whispered, voice thick with unshed tears. He got up, gathered his laptop and a blanket and went to the chair across from Rhett, falling into a fitful sleep.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos give me life. Tell me what you liked, what you want to see next, yell at me about your feels. It keeps me going. <3


	9. Spiraling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has remained the same compared to The Day Rhett Lost Everything.

* * *

 

Upon hearing the clatter of a tray of empty dishes fall to the floor, Link looked up to see a greasy man in a wrinkled suit reeling back and forth ten feet away from him.  Link saw that the man’s wild hair was long and stringy, shooting in all directions.  His beard was bushy and long, gray wisps of hair curling this way and that.  Link could bet that if the man came closer, that Link would be able to smell him.  His stomach churned at the thought of what this drunken man’s scent was. Link wrinkled his nose and was about to return to his search of companions, when something caught his eye. 

 

The familiar glint of the strange man’s eyes held Link in place. The bright irises that couldn’t decide if they were green or gray. Dilated pools sat in the center of glittering color and long fluttering eyelashes bordered them. It was like Link was in a dream.  Everything moved in slow motion and felt heavy and hazy.  The familiar man swayed on his feet, looking in Link’s direction.  Link was rooted in place, those eyes boring into his soul.  

 

Link felt a flush of recognition start in his chest and spread slowly outward through his body.  It was like he had been stranded in the deserted Arctic, freezing to death and had finally found fire. A flood of memory flashed across his brain, sweet moments that Link had tried to suppress, but could never be forgotten: knocking chairs down in a classroom just to hear the loud clang, soft locks falling to the ground as Link clipped away at bleached hair, the smell of beard oil, a deep vibrating laugh, and those eyes. 

 

Eyes that he had once counted on to brighten his day and wash over him with their warmth. Eyes that could recognize all of Link’s moods and had seen all of Link’s faces, had watched Link grow up and that knew all parts of him, better than Link knew himself.  Rhett’s eyes. 

A dark memory tugged at the fragile strings of all the other sweet ones that made him smile. It crawled up Link’s arms and nipped at his elbows and triceps. The discomfort made his scalp burn. Blinking away the sting in his eyes, he swallowed the memory back and shoved it deep down inside himself. He willed the nicer memories back and was able to drown in light for a few moments, before the man turned and walked away. 

 

Link felt breathless from the loss of this man’s gaze, as reality settled back into place.   “Excuse me.” He mumbled shooting up from his seat and chasing after the unkempt man.  

 

For a man that seemed like he was too drunk to still be alive, he sure was fast on his feet.  Link ducked around the corner and saw him swaggering to a nearby table and falling into it.  Link sauntered up to the table and gazed down at the man. “Rhett.” 

 

“Hi-ya, Link.” Rhett slurred, barely able form the words.

  
  


* * *

 

 

“Rhett. . . Rhett. . . “ A whisper of his name floated around his eardrums. “Rhett. . . “ It was a soft floating sound in the air, feathery and light. 

 

“Link?” A gruff voice, foreign sounding from disuse emerged from Rhett’s lips.  A grating noise against the soft breath in his mind.

 

Looking up, he saw a dark figure, sunlight framing it’s body.  A jolt went through his heart and quickly left him, making his body feel even more tired, as he realized who this person was not. 

 

“Hey, hey man. That was song was beautiful.  You should really be an entertainer or something.”  The stout man poured out in a rush of too quick words and sentences. Head topped with greasy gray hair and a face of twisted knots in his beard vibrated in front of him.  “Really, man.  You could really make a lot of money. You shouldn’t be here in the slums underneath the highway.” The man said, eyeing Rhett’s cup of coins that he had collected from the interpass above.  

 

Clutching his cup to his chest, he emptied the coins into his hand and stuffed them in his pocket.   

 

He hadn’t thought his voice sounded so great. It was dull and lifeless, nothing like the deep baritone that would echo in his chest and ring out for miles. It was missing its pair, its falsetto.  The bright sweet melody to his bass.  The counterpart that made his rise and fall sound more alive and exciting.  Shrugging his shoulders, he turned away from the jittery man. 

 

“Come on man, that is no way to make friends.” The man said, sudden anger lacing his words, as he grabbed Rhett’s shoulder spinning him around. 

 

“M’need no friends.” Rhett mumbled, both hands pushing the other man away from him.  

 

“Hey, man. Don’t touch me!” The man hollered, punching Rhett square in the jaw, sending him to the cracked concrete. The man was on his knees, rooting around in Rhett’s pockets for the coins the blonde man had collected, as Rhett lay dazed, trying to focus his vision.  “I’ll be taking these for my trouble, asshole. Next time, you should be nicer.” The man stood up and gave Rhett two swift firm kicks to his ribs. The sudden shock of pain emanated through his torso and made his teeth grind.  Wrapping his arms around himself, he curled up in the fetal position and threw up on the pavement.  He didn’t get up for a long time.

* * *

 


	10. Come Back To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett does something he can never take back. Link has to live with the consequences. How do they survive it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--TRIGGER WARNING--
> 
> Completely rewritten and reworked chapter.

“Ahh! No! No!”

Link groaned as he rolled over, hearing Rhett’s screaming from down the hall. Not again. Poor man. Ever since Jessie had kicked Rhett out and he started staying in Link’s guest bedroom, this happened three or four times a week. Rhett would scream out in his sleep and Link would go to him to shake him out of his nightmare.

The brunette had tried once or twice to wait it out, hoping the nightmare would resolve itself and let the man sleep in peace, but Rhett’s screams had only gotten more frantic and louder. It seemed like sleep paralyzed the blonde man and he couldn’t even wake himself up. Link was the only calming force that could pull Rhett back into this world and soothe his mind. 

Throwing his feet over the bed and padding across the hall, he was grateful that Christy and the kids were in North Carolina visiting his parents. Usually, when Rhett got like this it would wake the whole house up. He was glad that at least they would find some rest away from the blond man. But it wasn’t Rhett’s fault. None of this was ever his fault. No matter how much Jessie blamed him and even how much more he blamed himself, it was just a tragic, despicable turn of events and Link couldn’t convince Rhett that forgiveness and light were due to him. It made Link ache for his friend’s torment. 

To be fair, sleep had become a long forgotten concept. Even if Rhett didn’t alert the house with his continuous nightmares, contented sleep stopped happening long ago. Each of his children, Christy and even himself could not enjoy the small things anymore. Tiny pleasures were ripped away, because really what was the point of being happy and comfortable when they had to witness not only the break of a family, but the destruction of an entire soul. It was a thing that you could not ever survive and something Link could never imagine. Each tear that fell from Rhett’s eyes was absorbed by Link and each scream that tore through Rhett vibrated in Link’s chest. So though Link had not witnessed Rhett’s terrible pain, he lived it through Rhett and for Rhett, each and every day without fail. 

Link made his way to the guest bedroom and slowly opened the door. 

“Stay with me. No, no, no, no. What did I do? Stay.” Rhett moaned, as nonsensical sounds blended with words and phrases. Climbing into bed with Rhett, like they did as kids, Link grasped the man’s bicep, rubbing up and down his arm. The hint of whiskey filled the room as if Rhett had bathed in the dark liquid. 

“Rhett. Rhett. It’s ok. I’m here. Wake up.” Link whispered. “It’s just a nightmare. Come back to me.”

Rhett’s eyes flew open and he began to weep. An endless stream of moisture dripped down the curve of his face, soaking his beard and pillow. Link grabbed the larger man and crushed him to his body. “Oh, Rhett. It’s ok. It’s just a dream, brother,” Link whispered, wiping the tears from his friend’s eyes. 

“That night. . . S’not a dream . . . I can’t stop it . . .S’not my blood. . .” Rhett cried as he flipped Link onto his back and got on top of him. 

“Rhett, what . . .?” 

Link was silenced with a crushing kiss. Lips mashed together, teeth clicking against each other. The brunette struggled against Rhett, nails dug in his shoulders, feet flailed out, trying to push him away. It seemed as if Rhett wasn’t having any of it as he put more of his weight on the trembling body beneath him. Breath was forced out of Link’s lungs and into Rhett face as he pulled away to scream. 

“You can’t blame me forever, Jessie.” Rhett growled, running his tongue down Link’s neck. 

“Rhett, brother. Stop.” Link whimpered, his voice was desperate but weak. He couldn’t believe what Rhett was doing. The feel of the blonde man’s hard penis as it slid up and down Link’s body brought him painfully to the reality of the situation. “What are you doing?” Link said against Rhett’s lips, pushing the blond man away. 

In one move, Rhett grabbed the brunette's hands and pinned them painfully against the headboard and had the man’s boxers down. His lower half fully naked and exposed, Link was afraid of this man. This man whom he would entrust his life to had him tasting the metallic taste of terror. The body above him was not someone he recognized. It was not the man who protected him from bullies in the third grade, the boy who colored pictures with him. It was not the man who experienced the pains of life by his side since they were barely old enough to cross the street alone, not the man who chased his dreams with Link at his side. This man was a monster, the sad being his best friend had become. Someone with Rhett’s face, but void of his laugh, his heart and his care.

The brunette twisted and tugged at his hands, causing his wrists to burn. Link whimpered, “Rhett, I don’t want this. Stop,” as he tried to use his body to get the man off of him. His body wriggled underneath the weight of his heavy friend as the growing fear made him tired. 

Rhett pushed forward, teasing at Link’s nipples. Kissing over his shoulders and biting his clavicles. Exploring Link’s chest with his tongue and moist lips. Tears streamed down Link’s cheeks. His body felt incredibly tense like it might snap in half. 

Link squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the back of his spinning head into the pillow. “Rhett. . .” Link’s mouth formed the words, but his voice had been choked off. 

“No. No. Stay with me. . . ” Rhett ignored his friends tears as he relived whatever horror was happening in his head. Roughly the blonde man jammed his tongue in between Link’s clenched teeth and tasted his mouth. Unable to speak, Link begged Rhett with his mind, Come back, Rhett. This isn’t you. Come back to me, please. The silent pleas did nothing and Link could feel himself sinking. He couldn’t stop the man. 

Rhett began to palm his prone friend. White hot terror lit along Link’s skin as Rhett fumbled with his crotch, slicing through his senses. This violation was being caused by his best friend. But this person had lost the sparkle of Rhett. This person possessed his best friend’s eyes and face, but not his mind and heart. A final burst of strength filled Link’s limbs and he bit down hard on the blond’s tongue. 

Breathless, Rhett ripped his face away, howling in pain, blood staining his chin. 

“Rhett. St--.” Link yelled, finding his voice. But it was short lived, as the man wrapped his palms around Link’s neck squeezing off his voice. The brunette’s eyes bulged and his entire body reached out. Link tried to push Rhett off of him with his strength of mind, pleading with whatever unknown force controlled these things for it to stop. But it did not stop. Link’s air had been stolen from him and the little amount that was left was not enough to sustain him for long. 

Clawing at Rhett’s hands, his eyes searched his face, begging for Rhett to come back. Blood and skin caked under Link’s nails as he felt the hot liquid drip on his forearms. Clenching his fists, Link hit his best friend in the face, but the hit glanced off with little effect. He dug his hands into blond locks and pulled, scraping at his face and scalp. Nothing Link did was working and he was fading, fading. Gray static filled his vision and his arms became tired and weak-so very heavy. 

Through the struggle, Link’s leg had become freed and had landed itself between Rhett’s thighs. Link focused on his leg, willing the last bit of his strength into that one appendage. Rearing back, he kneed him square in the crotch. The hit landed exactly as Link had hoped and he watched the explosion happen on top of him. Red watery eyes bulged, almost popping out of the man’s skull, as spittle mixed with blood burst from lips, landing on Link’s face. Thankfully, his friend shouted and rolled away, clutching himself. Link took his seconds and jumped out of the bed and darted to the other side of the room, ignoring the spatters of red on his face. Heaving air into his empty lungs, Link readied himself for a fight. Hunching over, squaring his feet and putting his arms up, he glowered down at Rhett waiting for the man to pop back up and attack again. But what he saw set a bomb off in his insides. 

Rhett looked up with glassy, far away eyes. Shaking his head, he focused on Link, but what Link saw there was death. Pupils blown out, mouth agape, Rhett resembled an animal ready to pounce and not the boy of his youth. Link’s eyes darted to the door, but he would have to get past Rhett. With the state Link was in, he was unsure he could put one foot in front of the other, let alone fly through his giant of a friend to safety. Because Link knew. Knew with every fiber of his being that there was no safety here. The slimy feeling along the back of his neck, the bruises forming on his wrists, the taste of Rhett’s mouth on his. All this shouted danger before Link’s eyes and that this person held no recognizable semblance of his friend. Rhett, his Rhett, was gone replaced by this monster of a man intent on hurting Link. 

Link dove inside his mind trying to gather his wits, but the brunette couldn’t think straight. His body vibrated and he wanted to be out of this space, out of this house, gone from the sight of those eyes tearing through his skin and feasting on his insides. 

His body moved before his mind could catch up. He shot across the carpet, feet slapping heavily and made it to the door. His fingers practically touched the jagged wooden frame, before he was being dragged back by his hair and shirt. 

Unseen hands snaked their way around his middle and tore his shirt from his body, the fabric ripping along Link’s stomach violently. The sound of thread loosening and cotton being destroyed landed heavily in his mind. Nails ripped at his midsection as strong hands yanked and pulled him. Throwing him face first onto the bed, Link shivered as Rhett curved around his backside. Similar to the times Rhett had walked up behind him and given him a bear hug. Similar to the I’m dead move. But instead of wriggling and laughing and cursing his name, Link froze and his mind went blank. He couldn’t move. He couldn't fight. Rhett was already in the process of positioning himself in Link’s cleft.  
This wasn’t happening. This was a nightmare. Any moment now, Link would wake up and life would come rushing back to normal. He wished he could pinch himself, but his arms were lifeless. Biting the inside of his cheek, he willed himself to awake. Wake up, wake up, wake up, he whispered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. 

And then pressure and intense pain that ripped along his opening, shooting flames all along his inner walls. He was being filled, overtaken. His whispers turned to shrieks. Wake up Link, Wake up! He screamed until his voice went out. Mouth hanging open, spittle flying out with the force of his body to continue screaming though his vocal chords had given up long ago. 

He felt the heavy feeling of Rhett’s full dick inside him. The tall man sputtered and groaned out words. But Link couldn’t hear him. Adrenaline rippled through him, but his fight or flight was in limbo. Nothing was happening. His brain wasn’t thinking thoughts. His skin wasn’t feeling the warm breath of his friend on his neck. His body was floating, high above the world. The pain turned to discomfort which turned to nothing. Link was nothing. Nothing but skin and bones. Tendons and slimy muck of insides. But the part of him that made Link, Link. . . that was gone. The light in his eyes faded and evaporated into the air around him. He saw the twinkle bounce away and disappear. Replaced by bright white crackling that spread over his vision. As Rhett grunted and heaved into him, Link lost more and more of his vision. And when he felt the twitch and twinge of his best friend inside him, coating his insides, Link let out the breath he was holding and darkness entrenched his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me on this. I know it has been a long time in between updates. So I gave you a shortish chapter, this heartbreaking chapter and the aftermath to make up for it. <33


	11. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett finds out what truly terrible thing he did to Link.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely brand new chapter.

Link’s eyelids flew open as his body jolted from its sleep. No, not sleep. Sleep is refreshing and healing. It rejuvenates you and reproduces cells that rebuild your broken parts and fix your insides. No, this was nothing close to sleep. This was the mind shutting down, completely going off the grid.  There was nothing refreshing or positive about it. Except for the fact that in this passed out state, Link didn’t know what happened to him. All he knew was darkness. 

 

This quiet slumber broke away and Link felt the intense agony of his worst nightmare coming true. A nightmare he didn’t even know he had, one that he had never even imagined would be something he should fear. But now he knew. He knew with his whole being that he should be afraid. That his life would never be free from it. 

 

It was not the sunlight of the new day that woke him from pleasant slumbers. No. It was the tiny fingers of death and destruction that strangled him awake. Because when he awoke, it was not because the warm light of the morning sun. It was not because of the soft breathing of a loved one beside him. It was the monster that had been born in the darkest parts of his subconscious. The monster that had set up house, curtains and linens and all, making themselves at home in his brain. Tearing down the warm and safe feeling that he didn’t even know his life possessed until it was ripped out of his hands. It was thrown down and smashed to pieces in front of him, left bloody and decaying on the carpet. That was what jolted him awake to find the aftermath of what occurred last night. 

 

Link couldn’t breathe as the night’s events came rushing back, but even worse was the body of his supposed friend that was half on top of him. Link’s body turned rigid and he flew from the mattress and fell to the floor. He couldn’t control his movements as his body vibrated with terror and slammed him against the wall. The whole house shook and the loud sounds brought Rhett out of his stupor. He gazed at his friend on the floor, sweaty and shaky and reached out. Link scrambled backward against the wall hitting his shoulder. Grunting he grabbed himself and rubbed the pain away, but his eyes never left Rhett. 

 

“What….What’s wrong? Linkster. Are you ok?” Rhett grumbled past the hangover pounding his skull, a steady beat  _ thud thud thud.  _

 

Link watched Rhett gaze at the torn shorts on the carpet and move his hand on the dried blood on the sheets. The smell in the air was heavy with the scent of sex. It seemed both men’s eyes turned inward. Link wasn’t sure what Rhett saw, but Link saw Images of warmth, holding a friend close and soothing him. Then the tender words turned into something dark and brutal. Link could see the change in his friend’s eyes. The man saw the same scene behind his eyes that the brunette saw in his own. 

 

“No….. No…… Link…. I ….no … I didn’t…. What …….”

 

Link bit his lip and shook his head, hands on his temples. Shaking his head back and forth trying to jostle something loose.  

 

“Link. . . . . .” Rhett scooted closer trying to grab hold of the body trying to calm him, wanting to take away whatever demons were flying around behind his friend’s eyes. 

 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t come near me, Rhett!”

 

“Link… I’m sorry. I was drunk…” 

 

“So you do remember.” 

 

Rhett stared off in the distance. Sure he remembered. The feeling of it. The lost feeling the warm feeling, the wet feeling, the slight pleasure that was short lived. Vaguely he heard screams. Vaguely he heard crying. But that was a dream, a hellish nightmare. That wasn’t really Rhett. Rhett would never hurt Link. But as Rhett gazed into the tear stained face, he saw the story written in the bruises around his friend's neck, he saw it in the hand prints on his wrists and the tremble of his body and quick eyes every time Rhett breathed deeply. Images rushed through his lazy, alcohol infused brain. Link’s comfort turned to pleading words and screams as a warm, solid body beneath Rhett became limp and cold. 

 

“Oh… Link...I… We should take you to the hospital.” 

 

“I can’t go looking like this.” Link wrapped his arms around his knees pulling them up. He couldn’t let the world see him like this. One glance and they would know. They would know that Link was broken and disgusting. He couldn’t bare the silent stares and knowing eyes. His stomach was not strong enough for it and he would surely vomit at the sight of the first person to glance his way. 

 

“Let me help you.” Rhett asked gently putting his hand out. 

 

“No.” Link snarled, practically growling at the sight of his “friend’s” upturned hand. If it were any closer, Link might have torn the thing clean off. 

 

“Well at least let me drive you.” 

 

There was no talking Rhett out of it. Link was sure of it and had no strength to fight. He just wanted this man out of his sight, out of his house, as far away as possible. Maybe if Rhett were on the other side of the planet, Link would feel like his insides weren’t going to burst out through his chest. “Fine, wait in the car.” 

 

Link scooted along the wall, keeping his eyes on Rhett. Rhett was barely moving, but he didn’t care. The brunet didn’t chance it as he pushed his seated body out of the room and then stood and bolted to the opposite side of the house, locking the bedroom door behind him and barricading the door with a chair.

 

He walked into the adjoining bath and locked himself in the bathroom. He twisted the knob on the tub to the hottest setting and turned toward the mirror as it heated up the room. Staring at his reflection, he watched the steam float around his body. But what he saw was not a man, but scum and vile filth. How could he have let it get this bad? What was he thinking? He should have known. 

 

_ Known what? _ his brain whispered.  _ Known Rhett would lose his mind and attack you? Really? _

 

He placed his palms on the cool porcelain of the sink and pressed his forehead against the mirror. Nothing but self deprecating emotions swirled in his brain. He couldn’t stop the creeping feeling that this was his fault. If he had done something more, said something differently, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe he would have just woken up in his friend’s arms with tear soaked shirt like every other time Rhett cried out. It was Link’s fault. Everything was his fault. He should have been more. 

 

_ You should have done better.  _ His mind echoed. 

 

Stepping in the shower he was determined to scrub every area that Rhett touched. Scrub away the pain of betrayal. Maybe if the water burned enough he would be absolved and maybe he would find peace. But Link’s mind was far from peace at the moment. He was hyper vigilant of every sound as he periodically moved the shower curtain to make sure there was no one in the room with him. It was a silly fear, Link knew. He was safe behind two locked doors and Rhett was in the car below, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched and being hunted. It felt like he was going to be dragged down in the light of day and violated again. 

 

His tears blended with the scalding water and it was like he wasn’t crying at all but the ache shook through him. He wrapped an arm around his middle to contain the pain that was about to spill out, but no amount of pressure would ease his stomach. He vomited and dry heaved clear warm liquid, his body violently hacking as he watched the spittle and stomach acid swirl down the drain at his feet. His head pounded, but the water hitting his temples and the back of his neck soothed the hurt banging around in his brain. If only water could cleanse all evils. 

 

About thirty minutes later, Link had gathered enough courage to step out of his house and make his way to the car. He refused to turn his back on the world, so locking his door was an obstacle, but he managed to lock both the bolt and the handle without much fumbling. He stood on his stoop and studied his front yard, half expecting all of the neighborhood to have died along with the life that was inside him. But the birds still flew in the sky and the sun still lit every portion that he could see. It made him angry, hot boiling mad to see that the world continued to turn after what had happened to him last night. How dare the world not spin off its axis and send everyone careening into deep space, killing everyone he knew and had yet to meet. How could everyone go about their boring and meaningless lives, when Link had lost everything? 

 

He stepped up to the car and eyed Rhett through the glass. Here was the man that had destroyed everything and Link was still going to get inside the car with him. But the shorter man had little choice. He was not about to drive himself to the hospital, barely able to walk down the sidewalk towards the car, let alone operate one. He yanked open the door, flung himself into the seat and put on his seatbelt. Curving his body around the door, his hand laid softly on the handle in case he needed to make a getaway. Rhett raised his hand and Link flinched. Putting his hand out toward Link, Link squeezed his eyes shut and flung the door open, but was restrained by his seatbelt. Struggling he tried to run. 

 

“Link, open your eyes. And take this.” 

 

Link stopped moving and looked to his lifelong best friend. There he was. The boy that swam in the creek with him. The boy that hugged him when they won a soccer match against the neighborhood kids. The boy that took all afternoon to cut down a tree in the woods, taking turns hacking at it. The boy had grown into man before his eyes, a broken and violent man. When had Link missed that? When had he missed the leap from gentle giant to violent assailant? Link wasn’t sure but a large part of him blamed himself. If he only been a better friend, maybe this would never have happened. 

 

His eyes snapped back to reality and caught sight of the glinting object in Rhett’s hand. It was a key.

 

“A key to your house. I figure you wouldn't want me to have this anymore. Besides I don’t need it. Not where I am going.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Well we’re going to the hospital. You’re going to tell them what happened.”

 

“No…” Link was afraid of Rhett, but what trumped that fear was the thought of losing him. He was his best friend and that meant something to Link. Rhett was there when no one else was. When his mother was at work. And when his step-father payed little attention to him. When his step siblings ostracized him. Rhett was there to welcome him into his own family, at the tender age of six. There was no reason why Rhett had shown this kindness, they had barely known each other. But since the day they met coloring pictures during recess, Rhett had taken Link in and made him feel important and loved. It was a feeling Link wouldn’t forget. It was something Link couldn’t just throw away, no matter how much it hurt.  

 

“Well we’ll see when we get there.”

  
  


* * *

 

Link was ushered into the hospital room and left to wait for the doctors. The brunette pulled himself up onto the table, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn’t know what he was holding in or keeping away, but his insides boiled over and threaten to spill out all over the floor. He rocked himself and tried to stay in one piece. 

 

The examination was horrifying, the doctor’s words were a blur of questions and probings. Link ignored all of it. He was in a fog in his own mind, turning the events of that night over and over. The doctor asked if he wanted to speak to the police and Link looked up in confusion. He glanced over at Rhett and saw the panic in his friend’s eyes, the true horror of what he had done come over him. Rhett grabbed at his chest in an attempt to hold himself together and when Link heard the strangled sobs of his best friend, the fear and anger slid from his body, pooling to the floor.  

 

Link shook his head, taking the medication from the doctor and looking at the floor. His very essence, everything inside of him, was torn in half by his friend’s actions, but he ached for his sadness. No one should have to go through what Rhett was going through right now.  He was alone in the world and all he had was Link. But what Link saw in Rhett made him afraid of the tall man. A fear that slithered its way into his muscles and took hold. It was a new feeling, something Link had never experienced before because Rhett had always been his safe space. But now, the very same safety had hurt him and now that was all that Link could think about. Nothing was ever safe again. 

 

The doctor walked from the room as the door slowly closed. 

 

“Link, Link.  I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Rhett whispered from the corner of the room through his tears. 

 

No matter what Rhett has done, they were partners in this life, sealed in a blood oath made years ago, and that meant Rhett’s pain was Link’s pain.  Link went to his friend and stood beside him.  His arm went around Rhett gently pulling the taller man against his side, trying to force the suffering out of his friend and hold it in his own body. Trying to combine his pain and Rhett’s and stuff it deep down into himself. 

Soothing him the only way he knew how, he rubbed up and down Rhett’s back, “Shh. Brother, it’s ok.  You’re ok.”  But Link didn’t know how to make this better. And Rhett had begun to drag Link down this dark hole with him. Part of Link realized it and that part was fearful of all the ways Rhett could destroy him. But Link wasn’t ready to give up on the man. This was not the breaking point. Link still had enough love and patience in his heart to accept all of Rhett’s failings. 

 

But Link knew he wouldn’t be enough for the tall man, as he couldn’t reassemble the broken pieces shattered inside. There was no magical cure for when your life is falling apart at the seams.  There were no words to say that would heal him.  Link felt totally useless, muttering promises of things getting better in his friend’s ear when he wasn’t sure Rhett would ever be better, he wasn’t sure he, himself would ever recover from this. Rhett had been broken and twisted, his whole world lost and destroyed and now he had hooked Link in the process of his descent into death. How was he going to come back from this? How was Link to come back from this? 

As the blond man continued to cry, Link prayed, begged and hoped for one wish: _Come back to me Rhett. Please, come back._

 

 


End file.
